Volatile
by Brokenspell77
Summary: CM Punk and Randy Orton had never been close. The volatile disposition of both men often led to arguments and violence, but when they end up in each others company more and more things begin to change. WARNING: Explicit slash/Swearing. CM Punk/Randy Orton.
1. Chapter 1

Randy tumbled all his belongings into his bag without much care, his sole mission to get the hell out of the arena as soon as possible. The night had not been kind to the Viper. His match that night was less than stellar. He had messed up a move and he had reaggravated his niggling knee injury; that was currently being iced, during the course of the match.

One of those factors he could normally deal with. He had learnt to handle that and quash his anger over the years, but not tonight. More and more shit just kept piling on that night and now he was fuming so much that it wouldn't surprise him if he had steam coming out of his ears. All Randy really wanted was to get back to his hotel room and close out the world and crash.

All the frustration and anger that was rampaging through his body was really masking something else. Randy was aware of that. He wasn't stupid. He never thought he'd feel so lost though. To feel so adrift. For so many years he had been sailing smoothly, his life at an all time high, yet without any hint or clue it now rested in ruins around him. And despite coming across as a tough guy, Randy felt the pain and the hurt.

He was in a pit of anguish and despair and he wasn't sure whether he'd be able to claw his way out. He wasn't sure that he even wanted to. He might as well as stay there and rot. All that he knew for the better part of the last decade had vanished, and the only way he was managing to stay afloat and keep himself from giving up was turning all that hurt and pain into something else.

It had evolved into pure rage and furious anger.

That was his default setting.

Apart of him felt relieved to feel something. Anything. The anger simmered from that single moment that changed his life and for a while it was buried under the sorrow, but lately it had taken over and began to boil.

Everyone could see his temper flaring. His control fraying. They wisely fled in the opposite direction as soon as they clapped eyes on the raging Viper, and that suited Randy just fine. He was in no mood to make small talk or joke around. He wanted to be on his own and the icy cold stare he projected made sure that would indeed be the case.

He knew deep down that his anger and hurt would diminish over time, but for now he was content in drowning in it, and god help anyone who said or did the wrong thing in his company.

Unfortunately the solitude Randy craved was about to evaporate as someone dared enter the lions den.

The locker room door suddenly swung open and with a crash it bounced off the wall and closed itself due to the force as CM Punk confidently strolled into the locker room with a grin plastered all over his face and the WWE championship proudly displayed on his shoulder.

'Great another thing to piss me off!' Orton muttered under his breath, his piercing gaze following Punk as he made his way across the room.

Punk barely paid Randy any attention as he sat on the bench and began to remove his boots, kick pads and knee pads. Punk's night was the reverse of Orton's. His match went tremendously well, he had won and retained the WWE championship. Punk was happy, well as happy as he could get anyway.

Randy's glare didn't relent as it fired into the back of Punk's head. The pack of ice on his injured knee began to melt under the intense pressure in which Randy's hand grasped it. The all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach began to increase. The anger was close to taking over and pouring out. Randy gritted his teeth as his fingers curled into fists.

The control diminished rapidly, and Randy couldn't even pin point why. After all Punk hadn't done anything but walk into a communal room. Yet a target was still firmly printed on his chest. Randy rolled his head, his neck clicking as he still eyed up his victim.

Once Punk had rid himself of his elbow pads and wrist tape he stood up from the bench and started to pull out a towel and a change of clothes. That was when he became aware of the eyes boring into his back. He rotated his upper body to see Orton staring at him. 'You got a problem?'

Randy held the gaze of Punk momentarily before slowly turning his head and continuing with the task that he was doing before the champ crashed into the previously baron room. Randy started to tie his shoes and as he did so he realised that he was pissed off at Punk for no good reason.

Sure they weren't the best of friends and yes during their acquaintance they had royally pissed one another off. For a long while Randy actually thought Punk had a mission to actually aggravate him. But tonight there had been no incident. No name calling. No dirty looks. No nothing. He was in a bad mood and he knew it. He needed to get out of there and fast before the bomb ticked down and all that would be left would be ruins.

A sudden slam of a locker startled Randy and his head snapped around to see Punk with his phone in hand. Randy shook his head as he thought the idiot was probably on twitter. The guy seemed to be on there twenty four seven.

Once again Punk felt eyes on him, and as he tightened the towel around his hips he looked up and his eyes locked onto Randy's for the second time that night. 'What?'

Randy stared blankly at Punk before again averting his eyes back toward the floor, the chains encasing his anger starting to rattle more and more at each passing second.

'Have you lost the power of speech or something?' Punk shouted. 'Fucking prick!' He added, never one to hold an insult back.

Like a red rag to a bull!

'Shut the fuck up.' Randy replied, Punk's jibes immediately pouring more fuel on the fire in the pit of Randy's stomach.

'What exactly is your problem?' Punk questioned. 'Ever since I walked in here you've been throwing me dirty looks.'

'You're my problem. You piss me off!' Randy answered through gritted teeth.

'Good, at least I know I'm doing it right.' Punk smirked, his tongue flicking out at his lip ring.

'Ass-hole.' Randy muttered.

'Had a look in the mirror lately? Because that Randal is what you are exactly.' Punk shook his head as he turned his back to the raging Viper and returned his phone back to its previous location of the locker.

Randy's jaw ticked and his fists tightened once more as the iron clad control he had managed to cage his anger in for such a long time had almost vanished.

Punk and Randy had never been close. They had never considered each other a friend. They probably never will. They had a colourful past.

Early on in Punk's WWE tenure they had clashed repeatedly. Their personalities just seemed to repel the other. And if one of them was in a mood you'd know about it. Both had a reputation for having a short fuse. Hence the multiple cases of Punk and Orton arguments. They were mainly over stupid incidents in the ring or backstage, or Randy's complete lack of understanding of Punk's straight edge lifestyle. Randy didn't have a problem with it, he'd always gone by the ethos of live and let live, but he just didn't understand it.

When questioned by Orton, Punk would immediately snap. It wasn't a hard thing to understand Punk always thought. But after many years and many what Punk would call 'toolboxes' questioning him about it he had had enough. He was happy with his lifestyle choices, if someone didn't understand or didn't agree that was their issue not his.

Randy envied that mindset. Most things seemed like water off a ducks back for Punk. Where as if it were to happen to Randy his temper would explode and something would get trashed. Whether that be furniture or someone's face he could never truly be sure.

Lately however, Punk and Randy were civil. They had no arguments for a couple of years now, not since the new Randy had emerged. The more subdued, more laid back Randy seemed to be universally embraced in the locker room. They had even exchanged pleasantries here and there, but tonight it felt like time had rewound and the fiery temperament of both men would likely lead to some sort of altercation.

The old battle ground would be revisited.

'If I were you, I'd learn to shut your fucking mouth or you'll pay for it.' Randy barked.

'Is it your time of the month?' Punk mocked.

'You're not funny.' Randy snarled as he stood from the bench, the long crushed ice pack falling to the floor between his feet.

'Actually, I am a comedy genius.' Punk shot back. 'Oh.' He continued, as he grabbed his shower gel and shampoo from his bag and started to walk toward the showers. 'By the way, great match tonight. Super job!'

Sarcasm dripped from Punk's words and Randy cringed as Punk hit him where it hurt. He was already pissed that he hadn't had a good match that night, but for Punk to rub his nose in it made it ten times worse.

'I fucking hate you!' Randy bellowed at Punk's disappearing form.

A smug Punk called back over his shoulder. 'Don't worry the feelings mutual, douchebag!'

The insult just about made it to Randy's ears before Punk left the vicinity of the locker room and went into the shower room adjacent. Randy's temper was now an out of control fire due in a large part to Punk's scathing retorts.

How come that stupid fuck could get under his skin better than anyone else? The fucker always had a way with words, he was never at a loss for them. Ever. The guy certainly was a master. His insistance that his microphone skills were a 'pimp bomb' was certainly apt.

Randy shook his head and his clenched fist met the cool metal of Punk's locker, leaving a rather obvious dent. It quelled his anger by a fraction, and he took some deep breaths to calm the monster inside further. He could hear the water running in the showers, his mind quickly flashing to him walking in there and punching the living crap out of the obnoxious and unsuspecting Punk.

Instead, he collected up his belongings and left the anger poisoned room behind him.

...

Punk opened the heavy door to the underground parking lot and the chill of the night refreshed him and cooled his skin. Punk noticed how the place was pretty much empty save for a few cars dotted around here and there. Punk's ears pricked up as he heard what he thought was someone doing some major swearing.

As he progressed further into the heart of the parking lot he spotted the culprit. Orton was stood by his rental, and then Punk noticed why Orton's fury had been unleashed again. The rental had got a flat tyre. A smile crept onto his face, after the way Orton behaved earlier toward him in the locker room Punk couldn't help but revel in Orton's bad luck.

Serves him right was Punk's reasoning.

Punk halted and couldn't help himself as he shouted out at his furious colleague. 'Having a bad night?'

Randy's head snapped around at him and his eyes narrowed, if looks could kill Punk would definitely be six foot under. Orton's fists balled up, and his whole body seethed as once again that annoying piece of shit CM Punk interjected himself into his life at the worst of times.

'Walk on Punk, or what happened in the locker room will pale in comparison to what will happen right here.' Randy hissed.

'Well, that isn't very nice is it Randal? Don't you know how to play nice with others? I was going to be a caring colleague and offer you a lift back to the hotel, but I think I'll forget about offering you that act of kindness.' Punk's lips curled into that all too familiar smirk.

Punk shrugged his bag back onto his shoulder and made his way to his car. He slung his belongings into the backseat and then got in and revved the engine up, just to annoy Orton that much more.

Randy looked around the vicinity hoping for any other superstar or diva to still be at the arena, but the car park was baron.

All of a sudden a horn beeped loudly echoing around the area and Orton turned to face the offending noise and its enabler and through the windshield of a full working vehicle Punk waved at him obnoxiously.

The hatred for Punk only increased and Randy wasn't even sure that could happen. It was already at a dangeorus level. If Punk kept on pushing his buttons fuck knows what would be the outcome.

Punk moved out of his parking space and once straightened up, he hit the gas and sped up, then floored the accelerator. Randy watched as Punk veered toward him.

Punk got closer. And closer. And closer...

There was no sign of Punk hitting the brakes as the metres disappeared in a rush. The gap that laid between the speeding vehicle and himself had almost vanished and Randy's eyes widened as the car was coming closer and fast. Punk was going to hit him!

Suddenly a screech of tyres sounded and the car slid over the concrete, smoke coming off the tyres as the friction burnt off the rubber. The car came to an abrupt stop right next to Randy. So close in fact that Randy only had to move an inch and he was touching the black paint work of Punk's rental.

The window opened and a devious smile greeted him. 'So, are you getting in or what?'

'You're a crazy fucking bastard!' Randy spat out as his grey eyes darkened to a furious shade of black.

'Says you!' Punk replied as he made a dumb voice as he continued his mockery. 'I hear voices. I punt people in the head. I'm a viper. I'm a predator.' Punk shook his head before talking again in his normal voice. 'Tool! Now either get in or get the stepping!'

Randy turned toward his rental and despite feeling a massive resistance to do so, he concluded unless he wanted to walk all the way back to the hotel Punk's offer of a ride was his only option. Orton fished the keys out from the bottom of his jeans pocket and locked the doors. He grabbed his bags from the roof of his rental and strode back to Punk. He opened the car door to the backseat and he proceeded to throw his bag in the seat next to Punk's. Randy then joined Punk at the front of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

Punk looked over at Randy, but all the Viper did was avert his gaze and instead stared out into the parking lot while silently cursing his misfortune, his stupid rental and most of all the fucker that was CM Punk.

Punk shook his head as he put the car into first knowing that he would get no sign of grattitude from Orton.

So, Punk's sarcasm returned. 'You're welcome.'

Randy gritted his teeth and his jaw ticked but he managed to contain his wild temper and kept silent as his eyes continued to look out the window.

Punk then hit the accelerator and they sped out of the arena and into the night.

...

'Look I can't find it okay, but I swear I made a reservation!' Randy tried to stay calm and keep his voice at a reasonable volume level.

'I'm sorry Sir, but without a reservation number...'

'I had a damn reservation number but I must've left it in my rental car.' Randy's control was beginning to wane and every nerve tingled with rage.

The female receptionist repeated her earlier comment which was answered with Randy's palm smacking the desk inbetween them. The woman jumped at the outburst and took a step back. 'Look Sir, I'm sorry, but can you keep calm?'

Randy shook his head bitterly. 'Trust me I'm trying but when I have to deal with idiots I get kinda testy!'

Offended by Randy's insult the woman fired back. 'Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave.'

'I am not leaving. How many fucking times, I have a room booked here!' Randy bellowed.

'Sir, do not make me call security.' She warned.

A hand suddenly clasped Orton's shoulder, and Randy rotated to see Punk stood there with a questioning look on his face.

'Wow, you really aren't having a good day are you?' Punk grinned evily.

'Do you want a punch in the face? I am sick of you, you sarcastic fuck!' Randy threatened.

'What? I was being sincere.' Punk responded, feigning offence to Orton's latest outburst.

'Oh, well your sarcastic voice sounds an awful lot like your sincere voice.' Randy said, believing Punk's insistence of him being sincere.

'I was just kidding man, I was totally being sarcastic!' Punk laughed. 'Actually I don't even know if I can do sincere.'

'I fucking hate you Punk!' Randy's lips curled up into a snarl.

'Sir, please leave our other guests be and leave this hotel or I will call security.' The woman piped up again.

'Yeah, don't be rude to me Randal, I'm a guest.' Punk smirked, his tongue poking at his lip ring.

Randy's glare turned ferocious on Punk, and Punk was sure Orton was about to snap. But to both mens surprise Randy turned and picked up his bag and his suitcase ready to leave. Apparently he still had some shred of control still intact.

'Look erm...' Punk paused as he read the womans name badge. 'Joan, the guy is having a really bad day and if you don't let him into his room I'm going to have to be charitable and let him stay in my room. Which believe me, I really, really don't want to do. So can you please just check the computer for a reservation under Orton. Or ass-hole, it could be under that.'

She smiled at Punk, then her eyes travelled over to Randy. She looked at him unimpressed, but nevertheless she began to type. 'Okay, I've got a reservation under a , made two days ago.'

'That's him.' Punk confirmed as he pointed at his fellow superstar.

'Do you have any form of identification on you ?' Joan asked.

Randy rifled through his pockets, soughting out his wallet. He pulled out his drivers license, his passport and even his gym membership just to make a point.

Joan stared at all three as they were spread out on the desk. She collected them up and examined each. She nodded her approval and told Randy that she'd give him his reservation number again and lectured him on how to keep it safe, irritating the already aggitated Orton further.

Randy was awash with relief and he then became aware of Punk's presence once more. Punk had actually loitered a few feet behind him to see the outcome. Randy thought that maybe Punk actually spoke the truth about letting him crash if he couldn't get into his own room. Randy realised in that moment that he should really acknowledge Punk's uncharacteristically kind behaviour toward him.

Randy turned around and walked toward Punk, who was waiting at the elevator. As he approached, Punk turned and their eyes met, the anger that lingered in each pair of eyes previously that night had now vanished.

Orton nodded his head in a sign of grattitude before actually uttering the word. 'Thanks.'

The elevator doors opened and Punk stepped inside hitting the button for the seventh floor. 'Don't thank me, I've just had enough of you for one night. Now if you don't mind I'm going to crash. Night Randal.' Punk grinned as he knew using Randy's full first name pissed him off to no end.

However, as the elevator doors began to close Randy matched his smirk. 'Night Phillip.'

Punk's grin faded and the daggers then flew out of the draw and fired in Randy's direction.

...


	2. Chapter 2

The elevator doors parted and CM Punk emerged, dragging his luggage along with him. With his hood over his head he trundled over to the reception desk all ready to check out and move onto the next destination he was bound for.

As he rifled through his jean and hoodie pockets for his key card a familiar voice sounded. Punk looked to his left to see Orton checking out. Any traces of rage from last night had seemed to have disappeared as Randy smiled at the receptionist as he thanked her after completing the check out process completely oblivious to Punk being in the vicinity.

'So you managed to get in your room then?' Punk questioned, as he looked over at his fellow wrestler.

Randy hauled his bags onto his shoulder and dragged his suitcase as he moved closer to Punk. 'Yeah.'

'You didn't have to be threatened with security throwing your ass out one more time?' Punk asked as he smiled.

'No.' Randy answered directly.

'Wow Randal, you are quite the conversationalist.' Apparently Punk's sarcasm was out early that morning.

Randy moved to stand beside Punk as the receptionist took Punk's key card from him. 'I'm tired okay? And you know you could've hung around a little while longer last night just incase they wouldn't let me in still.'

'Why would I do that?' Punk queried as he raised an eyebrow.

'So you could offer me a place to crash.' Randy clarified.

Punk scoffed at the notion. 'Not likely. I did my good deed for the day.' He replied alluding to him giving Orton a ride to the hotel. Punk finished the routine of checking out and began to walk back to the elevator to head to the underground parking.

As he pushed the button for the elevator he heard the footsteps that had followed him across the lobby stop behind him. He peered back over his shoulder and his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as Randy was the mystery footsteps that had followed him.

'Yeah?' Punk said quizically.

'What?' Randy shrugged.

'Why are you following me?' Punk asked as the ding of the elevator sounded marking its arrival. Punk stepped inside with Randy in tow.

'What's your good deed for today then?' Randy asked, as he looked down at the floor.

'My good deed?' Punk questioned, as he had completely lost the thread of their conversation. In his mind they shouldn't even be conversing. He had no idea why Orton was still in his company.

'Yeah. You said that your good deed for yesterday was giving me a ride to the hotel. What is it for today?' Randy asked again.

Punk realised that Randy was fishing for something, so naturally Punk didn't make it easy for him. 'My good deed for today is...' Punk paused and stroked his chin as if he was in deep thought. 'To not kick you in the head and show you some mercy. But fuck are you making it difficult.'

Punk shook his head at Randy, while noticing the Vipers venom shine as he sparked the anger that was so easy to ignite in the temperemental man.

As soon as the elevator doors opened Punk strode out leaving Randy behind. Having any perlonged exposure to Orton tended to make Punk feel uncomfortable. They were never at ease in each others company. Not when it was just them anyway. In a group it was fine. But on their own, the tension became unbearable.

'Wait up!'

Punk cringed as Orton's voice shouted out at him. He came to a halt and as Randy jogged to catch up the few feet between them Punk shrugged at him.

'Now what? For fucksake you're more annoying than an erection at a funeral!'

Randy blinked a couple of times looking confused due to Punk's latest insult.

Punk shrugged again. 'It makes sense.'

Punk walked on with Randy once again in tow. Trying to reign in his anger, Randy ignored Punk's latest installment of insults and continued with his objective.

'Look Punk, I know that I probably don't deserve it, but I kind of need a ride to Virginia for the houseshow. I know we're not close but I don't have any other means of transport. I was going to ask Cena, but he has media appearances to do.'

'You want to travel with me?' Punk asked, rather ammused at this latest development. He knew Orton was fishing for something he just hadn't expected it to be that.

'Want might be a little strong.' Orton replied.

'That's nice.' Punk shot back faking hurt at Orton's last statement.

'You know I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate.' Orton continued.

'Well you must be desperate to consider travelling with me.' Punk agreed.

'I know it's not what you want either, but can you just think like it's your good deed for the day?' Randy asked, getting annoyed at the lack of a definitive answer from Punk.

'It's certainly not what I want. I mean you don't even like me.' Randy opened his mouth to respond but Punk put his hand up for him to stop. 'Like I've said before, the feelings mutual.'

Punk wandered over to his car and threw his luggage on the backseat. He closed the door then glanced back at Orton still stood where he left him. Punk could see Randy had no other options, that was crystal clear seeing as Punk really would be the last person Orton would ask for help from.

'Fine. Get in.' Punk sighed.

Randy rushed up to the vehicle throwing his belongings onto the backseat too before sitting in the passengers seat.

The engine roared to life and before shifting into first gear Punk looked over at Orton. 'I'm warning you now though, if you annoy me in anyway shape or form, I will not hesitate to throw your ass out of this car while it's still moving and dump you and your shit on the side of the road. Got it?' Punk then followed that up with a big fake smile that he knew would rile Orton up.

Orton swallowed down his anger and his impulse to retaliate to Punk's goading and instead nodded his head. 'Sounds fair to me. I'll be on my best behaviour.'

Randy then followed that up with a big fake grin that mirrored Punk's mere moments before.

Each man certainly knew how to push the others buttons.

Punk felt a heavy sense of dread about this journey. Virginia couldn't come soon enough.

...

Punk estimated that they were halfway through their journey to Virginia for the joint Raw and Smackdown houseshow, and so far the journey had been incident free. Conversation was minimal as he and Randy had talked about work for a little before Randy took to staring out the window while Punk focussed on the driving.

Somewhere along the way Orton had fallen asleep. Punk only became aware when he heard deep breathing from the man sat beside him. Punk's first instinct was to either blast music on full volume or beep the horn to startle the sleeping man but he had somehow refrained. That was a hour ago now and Orton still hadn't stirred.

Punk glanced over at Randy, noticing how serene and peaceful he looked. It was so far and away from how Randy normally appeared. Serene and peaceful were words Punk was certain he would never use to describe Orton. Words like fuckwad, toolbox and douchebag however were. Truth be told he had used them multiple times to describe Randy, and that was to the Vipers face.

Punk looked back to the freeway they were currently barrelling down momentarily before fixing his gaze back to Randy. His eyes travelled down from Orton's face to his arms. Punk admired the tattoos that coiled and linked together as they ran down the entirety of Orton's arms.

An obvious fan of the needle himself Punk thought highly of Orton's ink. His was obviously better, but Orton's was decent nonetheless.

Despite the glaring differences between himself and Randy, Punk also saw a similarity. Out of the majority of the WWE roster Orton's personality most resembled his own for the simple reason that both never hesistated to say what was on their mind. They were also both incredibly volatile. They also had hidden depths under that volatility. Both men had more to them than what they projected out to the rest of the world, they just rarely showed it.

Punk's eyes took in the detail of Randy's left tattoo sleeve, roaming from the wrist, over the forearm and past the elbow up to where the bulging bicep disappeared under the white fabric of Orton's tee-shirt.

Punk was torn from his own world as Randy confirmed his return to that of the world of the awake.

'What are you staring at?' Randy queried, as he sat back upright in the passenger seat. 'Shouldn't your eyes be on the road?' A still half asleep Viper questioned.

'I wasn't staring.' Punk scoffed.

'You were staring.' Randy stated. 'Not that I can blame you.' He continued confidently.

Punk guffawed at the egotistical statement before firing back a trademark sarcastic retort. 'I gotta ask, does it hurt your back to kiss your own ass like that?'

Randy rolled his eyes at the Chicago native, before turning his attention to the time, quickly disappointed to discover they were only just over halfway there to their destination.

'Anyway to clarify, I wasn't staring. I was plotting.' Punk claimed.

'Plotting to what? Jump me?' Orton's arrogance continued to escalate as he smirked over at Punk.

Punk bypassed the arrogance and ploughed on with his own statement. 'If you must know I was thinking about pushing you out the door while you were sleeping. The thought amused me greatly.'

'I thought you would only do that if I annoyed you?' Randy asked, refering back to Punk's earlier threat back in the hotel parking lot.

'You have annoyed me!'

'How? I was asleep. How could I annoy you while I was asleep?' Randy asked, rather amused at Punk's continuing crap.

'You were...snoring.' Punk lied uncovincingly.

'I do not snore.' Randy claimed.

'Dude you really do. It got me thinking actually, how the fuck does your wife put up with it?' Punk replied.

'Shut up Punk!' Randy snapped as he turned away from his colleague and watched the scenery rush past his window.

'No seriously Randal, I want to know how the old ball and chain has managed to live with you for that long with that volume of snoring? She deserves a medal or something.'

Punk's acid tongue was beginning to burn.

Randys rage ran rampant throughout him, seeping from every pore as his fist slammed down against the dashboard. 'Just shut the fuck up!'

Realising he had hit a raw nerve Punk backed off with his sarcastic banter and he held his right hand in the air as a signal he was shutting up.

But Randy's temper was inflamed.

'You can't just leave it can you? You just have to cross the line. You can never shut that fucking mouth of yours!' Randy yelled as his fists were still clenched so tight that his knuckles had turned white.

Punk was taken aback by the outburst, his usual defence mechanism was to cut the tension with sarcasm but he came to the conclusion that that is what got him into trouble in the first place so went for the more sincere approach.

'Sorry.' A rare apology escaped Punk's lips.

Randy didn't respond with words or a look. He just burnt a hole through the windshield as his fists shook as his temper was still spiralling out of control.

An awkward silence hung over the vehicle as Punk was unsure of how to proceed. He thought that he should probably ask if Orton was okay, but that never came easy to him. So instead the silence lingered.

A few more minutes passed and the raging Viper had slowly began to calm down. Punk took notice of Orton's fists unclenching and his body relaxing back into the seat. Punk sighed in relief. For a moment there he thought he would be the one thrown from the moving vehicle not Orton like he had teased to do earlier in the day.

Punk shook his head, finally having enough of the silence. 'You hungry?' Punk asked, shattering the silence and easing the tension slightly. 'Because I'm starving.'

However he recieved nothing but the silent treatment from the Viper. Punk rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. He could sense a whole new argument could be seen on the horizon.

Just as he was about to retaliate and tell Orton to either speak or get the fuck out Orton replied quietly.

'Food sounds good.'

...


	3. Chapter 3

CM Punk put his wrestling boots on as time ticked on by and his match grew closer. He glanced around the locker room noticing he was alone. All his colleagues had vacated the area and were instead situated at gorilla position ready to watch the show.

The Royal Rumble ppv was a big and important event, it plants the seeds and sets the stage for Wrestlemania. It is the time of year when every superstar and diva step their game up, and Punk was determined to give it his all and have a great match with Dolph Ziggler that night. Then after his match he would relax and happily sit back and watch the usual chaos that comes along with the Royal Rumble match.

Punk stood up from the bench and stretched his arms high above his head readying himself for his bout. He stretched out his left leg and then his right, before the locker room door opened and his recent, yet unwanted travel companion Randy Orton appeared.

Randy instantly clocked Punk's presence and nodded his head in the Straight Edge superstars direction as a greeting. Orton was already dressed in his wrestling gear prepared to be a participant in the Rumble match.

Punk watched the man stroll over to his locker, and as he followed the Viper across the room his mind flashed back to their journey to Virginia for the houseshow mere days before.

For reasons Punk couldn't fathom his mind constantly drifted back to the incident on their journey where he hit a nerve with the Viper. Orton had lost it after a seemingly lame jibe from him. He had concluded that he had obviously poured salt on an open wound due to Orton losing it and lashing out at the dashboard of his rental. It was so obvious a deaf, blind and mute man could tell Punk had essentially waved a red rag in front of a Orton shaped bull, and since then Punk had ran the moment over in his mind time and time again.

During the rest of their journey he had contemplated enquiring about the sudden rage that emanted from Orton, but he had decided it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. The curiousity hadn't waned however.

Once they arrived at their destination and Orton was no longer in the vicinity Punk felt a huge sense of relief as the tension that had accumulated began to drain away. But also during the miles they had travelled together Punk had come to the conclusion that Orton's company wasn't exactly the worse he could keep. The conversation may have been minimal, but what they had conversed about was actually not all that boring. Much to Punk's surprise.

Beforehand he thought talking with Orton would've made him fall asleep at the wheel and that would inevitably result in fiery vehicular death. However, conversations about life on the road, being away from home, family, tattoos, music and the wrestling world as a whole actually made him want to talk to Orton, and more importantly made him want to listen to Orton. Over the course of the few hours that they talked he learnt that despite the glaring differences between the two of them, there were also some similarities too.

Orton's locker shut and Punk returned from his thoughts to see the Viper approaching him. 'Hey Punk.'

'Hey.' Punk returned the greeting casually as Orton stopped in front of him. 'You finally sorted out your own mode of transport then?' Punk joked.

Randy lips curled into a slight almost missable smile before nodding. 'Yeah, I thought I'd save myself getting threatened to be thrown out of a moving vehicle.'

'Wise decision.' Punk smirked. 'But you know I do you a favour and now you just ditch me without so much as a goodbye? Gotta admit, it hurt.' Punk's trademark sarcasm was out and about once more.

'Almost sounds like you missed me Punk?' Orton queried, despite knowing full well Punk was happy to get rid of him once they hit Viriginia.

'Sure I did, I missed you about as much as you missed me Randal.'

Punk smiled, his tongue pushing at the inside of his lip ring before walking past Orton and clapping him on the back of the shoulder with a departing 'See ya.'

'Later Punk.' Orton replied as he watched Punk disappear out of the room.

...

Punk huffed as he trudged back to the locker room. He had got to his car before realising he had left his cell phone behind. The show had finished over half an hour ago and Punk's plan to get out of the arena and back to his hotel room sharpish hadn't come to fruition.

Immediately after his match; where he had successfully defeated Dolph Ziggler and retained the WWE championship, he had taken a shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a hoodie and then sat back and watched the rest of the show unfold. As soon as the ppv ended he had walked back to the locker room swiftly and grabbed all his stuff, dodging many of the other superstars that were in the room as he did so and he made a bee line for the parking lot.

His intention to escape the arena was destroyed however as a microphone and camera were shoved in his face for a post match interview for , which was then followed by a road agent discussing his match that night and a brief outline of what was to happen on the following nights Raw, which Punk took with a pinch of salt seeing as the script for Raw usually changed a dozen times before actually going on air.

When he had finally obtained his freedom and reached the parking lot he became aware of the missing item. He internally cursed and he felt the anger simmer in the pit of his stomach, his plan to get out of the arena quickly had now vanished completely, and getting back to the hotel would now take probably twice as long.

Just to highlight how much time had passed the previously bustling locker room was now completely empty save for Punk who immediately found his locker and retrieved his cell. As he read the multiple text messages and missed calls while slowly shuffling over to the door he was surprised to hear footsteps approaching. He turned to see Orton returning from the shower, a towel fastened around his waist and hanging low on his hips.

'Hey. I thought I was the only one still here.' Punk greeted the wet Viper.

'Well I thought it was just me. I thought you left awhile ago?' Randy queried.

'I got caught up and then when I finally made it to my car I realised I forgot this.' Punk replied, holding his cell up to indicate to Orton that was the object he had left behind.

'I see.' Orton turned from Punk and pulled out a clean change of clothes before continuing. 'I saw your match, it was good man.'

Punk's attention turned from his phone to Orton, to say he was taken by surprise at the compliment from Orton was an understatement. The last time either of them had brought up one of their matches he had been criticising Orton trying to get under his skin. A slight curl of Punk's lips surfaced as he remembered that it worked like a charm.

'Err...thanks.' Punk said, feeling unsure of how to reply. 'You came close in the Rumble huh?'

'Yeah, but Sheamus is a good winner if you ask me.'

Punk's eyebrows raised even higher into his forehead as the Viper complimented another human being for the second time that night.

'I guess it would've been cool to win in my hometown though.' Orton added.

Punk hadn't even connected that they were in Orton's hometown. The amount they travel the cities and states, hell even countries tend to blend together. 'I completely forgot that we were in Saint Louis. I guess that would've been pretty cool.'

Orton pulled a tee-shirt over his head and turned back to look at Punk. 'Yeah. Now you know how I managed to get here on my own.' Orton smiled refering back to their earlier conversation. 'It would be really bad if I couldn't even get to the arena from my house in my own town.'

'True.' Punk smiled and nodded his agreement. 'So do you think you'll actually be able to make it to Raw tomorrow without me?' Punk joked.

Orton shrugged. 'I'm not sure. You know it could be tough.'

Punk went back to his cell, hurriedly replying to one of his texts, as he did he replied to Orton sounding almost uninterested. 'Yeah, so what are you going to do?'

'Thought I might ride with someone.' Orton replied as he zipped up his jeans and fastened the button.

Punk's attention switched back to him, and Punk felt like he had walked into a trap. 'Oh right, who with?' Punk asked with trepidation.

'I'm thinking with someone who won't threaten to throw me out of a moving vehicle.' Orton smiled.

Punk smirked as he remembered back to his insult before dishing out another. 'Well good luck trying to find anyone.'

Orton shook his head and let out a chuckle and a light hearted comeback. 'Fuck off!'

Punk pocketed his cell and looked back up to be greeted with the grey eyes of the Viper meeting his own. He surmised in that moment that he had definitely walked into a trap and all the exits had closed around him. He couldn't comprehend why Orton wanted to ride with him, I mean their history wasn't exactly pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. What was even more startling to Punk was that he was seriously considering caving in and allowing Orton to travel with him.

Orton's gaze held steady on him. The grey eyes seemed to be studying him, as if trying to determine an answer without asking the question nor hearing the answer from Punk himself. After what felt like an age Orton turned from him, a look of defeat evident as Orton began to chuck his belongings into his bag.

Punk rolled his eyes, for some stupid unknown reason he felt torn.

A phone suddenly rang and Orton rifled through his luggage and whipped out his cell. Punk noticed the grimmace on his face as he looked at the caller ID. Nevertheless Orton answered.

Not wanting to eavesdrop Punk made his way to the door ready to leave. As he opened it he peered back over his shoulder to see Orton rubbing at his temple. Clearly he was an unwilling participant in his current conversation.

Punk made a split second decision as he cleared his throat and Orton turned toward him. 'Be at the hotel at ten. If you're late even by a second I will just drive off without you.'

A grateful smile appeared, followed by a nod of the head before Punk exited the room. Punk shook his head as he sped through the hallways of the building not understanding why he just invited Randy Orton to travel with him to Raw the following day. He honestly wasn't sure he would ever understand that conundrum.

He reached the parking lot for the second time that night and he had finally achieved his mission of escaping the arena. He glanced at his cell, only an hour and fifteen minutes later than he had hoped for.

...

Punk tied his shoelaces as he and Kofi Kingston continued their joking and messing around. Out of the corner of his eye Punk could see Orton preparing to leave also.

His new road companion was relatively placid during their short trek to Kansas City, Missouri which was the latest location for Raw. A noticeable abscence during this journey was Orton's fists never met the vehicles dashboard. A welcome absentee in Punk's opinion. He could do without the inflamed temper of the Viper, mainly because if someone gets in a temper with him he generally finds himself getting steamed too.

Randy was quiet, almost mute in the passengers seat. Whenever Punk looked over in his direction Orton always looked deep in thought, and whatever those thoughts consisted of didn't seem to be pleasant ones Punk had surveyed.

Despite the lack of conversation, Punk had noticed that the awkward tension that hung over them like a dark cloud last time had dissipated. The silence was...well it wasn't completely comfortable, but it was close.

When Orton did talk Punk was happy to engage in coversation. As was the case during the first time they were travel companions the topic that came up and that lasted the longest was the topic of tattoos. Both men talked about their ink, and asked about each others.

Punk was also pleasantly surprised when Orton offered to drive a stretch of the way. Punk was happy to give up the wheel, he wasn't exactly a big fan of driving. Back in Chicago he never drove anywhere unless he had a considerable distance to go. He would happily walk and enjoy the city.

They had stopped off to grab some food and a much needed toilet break and before Punk knew it they had arrived at the hotel that they were staying in for the night. Unlike their trip to Virginia for the houseshow this journey didn't feel like it took an age and it wasn't complete torture.

Once they had settled into their respective rooms at the hotel Orton had knocked on Punk's door to ask if he was ready to head to the arena. It was a small ten minute car ride to the arena and once they arrived they walked to the locker room embroiled in casual conversation. As they entered Punk couldn't help but observe the many raised eyebrows and confused looks on many of the superstars faces as he and Orton arrived together and were chatting.

Admittedly it was a rare sight to see. That Punk couldn't deny.

During the show Kingston had even questioned him on what the deal was with that. Despite feeling a slight irritation, Punk couldn't blame Kofi or any of his colleagues for their curiousity. It was no secret that Punk and Orton had issues in the past.

Punk answered Kofi's question simply with 'He isn't so much of a dick as he used to be.' Kofi just nodded his head accepting that as a valid answer.

Now Raw had ended and a small group of his colleagues were heading out to a local club. He felt indifferent about going. On one hand he was beat and wanted to relax in his hotel room. On the other, if he did go back to his hotel room he would only end up watching some crappy tv shows all night due to his insomnia or with his hand down his pants.

Ultimately Kofi had pretty much made the decision for him anyway and Punk was soon telling people he was indeed joining them on their night out. His intention was to stay for an hour or two before leaving them to it. The way these things usually go down is that most of the guys and some of the divas get drunk off their asses and being the sober one he would inevitably have to help someone back to the hotel. Although Punk's idea of help consisted of dragging them along before pushing them into their room and closing the door behind him not caring where they landed. Does that constitute as help?

Orton slung his bag over his shoulder and walked up to Punk. 'Hey man, are you coming out tonight?'

'Err...yeah I am. Are you?' Punk asked, with the way Orton asked if he was it certainly seemed that the Viper would be joining them that night also.

'Yeah, I was thinking about it.' Randy answered.

'Great.' Punk said almost robotically, he didn't expect Orton to be joining them. He didn't really care either way but it was a little surprising. 'Well I'm ready to leave. Are you?' Punk queried, ready to head back to the hotel to dispose of his belongings before hitting the clubs.

'I'm all set.'

Randy followed Punk out the door, after these last few weeks the Viper felt he could certainly do with a drink. Or ten.

...

Punk wasn't sure how his night had wound up like this. How the fuck had he got into this situation? But here he was dragging a practically unconscious Randy Orton back to his hotel room.

As they waited for the elevator, Punk scanned over the hotel lobby noticing many sets of eyes watching him and his drunken colleague disapprovingly. The receptionist shook her head as Punk's gaze fell upon her. If she wasn't happy about a drunken idiot in the hotel, she should try having him in her arms, because that was much worse as Punk could attest.

The dead weight of Orton was getting heavier and heavier and Punk silently begged for the elevator to speed up and luckily for Orton just as Punk was about to give up and drop Orton uncerimoniously to the ground the elevator hit the ground floor. Once inside Punk propped Orton up against the back wall before pushing the button for the ninth floor.

Punk leant back against the wall beside Orton as they began to move upward. Orton slumped over his head lolling on to Punk's shoulder much to Punk's annoyance.

As soon as they had reached the club earlier that night Punk noticed Orton was knocking them back in quick succession. Orton had acquired a stool at the bar and he didn't budge from there all night. Well for the whole hour and half that they had spent there. The group had splintered off with some of them dancing and some stayed seated in their little corner. Punk was sat with Kofi and AJ and every so often he would glance back over at Randy.

The final time he took a glance back over his shoulder Orton was slumped forward in his stool face down on the bar. Punk wrestled with the decision on whether to leave him be or get the man out of there. Eventually he made the decision to help the drunken toolbox. He said his goodbyes to AJ and Kofi and waved off their assistance, instead telling them to stay and enjoy themselves.

He was unsure of how much the man had to drink, but from the amount on Orton's tab that night it was a lot. In fact Orton was so intoxicated he'd been unable to get his wallet from his jeans pocket and Punk had hurriedly lost his patience as he waited for Orton to pay that he ended up giving in and paying the damn bill himself.

They finally reached the ninth floor, Punk slung Orton's arm over his shoulders to support his weight and began dragging the Viper into the hallway. Orton's head found its way into the crook of his neck and Punk could feel Orton's breath ghost over his skin. He could smell the alcohol on the Vipers breath too and it made his stomach turn. Orton continually tripped over his own feet and scuffed them along the carpet causing Punk to take a firmer hold on the taller man. Punk wound an arm all the way around Orton's back, his hand splaying over Orton's hip.

Punk cursed at himself silently wondering why the hell he couldn't seem to put distance between Orton and himself lately. Not once in the almost six years that he had been on the road with the WWE had he and Orton travelled together, yet this last week he hadn't been able to get rid of him. And now he's looking out for the drunken idiot. It was perplexing to Punk to say the least.

Punk was thankful to finally reach Orton's door, he practically threw Randy into the wall before telling Orton to give him his key card. Orton remained unhelpful in his drunk addled state.

'For fucksake.' Punk muttered.

Punk put his hand into Randy's left pocket searching for the card, but came up empty so he moved to the right. He found Orton's wallet and took out a hundred dollars. 'That's for what you owe me for tonights alcohol binge, plus a bonus for helping drag your stupid ass back here.'

Punk pocketed the cash then swiped the card and Orton's door opened. Punk grabbed at Orton again and dragged him through the doorway.

'I knew you wanted to feel me up.' Orton mumbled.

'What?' Punk snapped, getting thoroughly pissed off at the state Orton was in. He hadn't understood any of the rambling that Orton had said since they left the club.

'You putting your hands in my pockets...' Orton shouted loudly, before carrying on with his drunken slurring. 'You want to get in my pants.'

'Right.' Punk rolled his eyes. 'Of course I do.'

As soon as they were in close proximity to the bed Punk pushed Orton harshly. Orton fell face first onto the covers and immediately shut up.

Punk shook his head as he threw Orton's wallet onto the bedside cabinet. He wandered over to the door before looking back at Randy, he could just about make out the faint sound of snoring.

'Night douchebag.'

...

Randy collapsed onto his bed thoroughly exhausted and still hung over. It was the day after the night before and he had just returned to his room after the Smackdown taping. He felt absolutely terrible. His head hurt considerably, he felt like he had been hit by a truck.

Throughout the day bits and pieces of his antics the previous night had seeped back into his consciousness. He remembered taking up permanent residence at the bar, ordering insane amounts of alcohol, and he had this distant memory of CM Punk being with him in the elevator.

His cell phone beeped alerting him to a text and as he read it he couldn't help the slight smile that crept onto his face.

_Text recieved 23.07pm_

_from: CM Punk_

_How's the hangover?_

...


	4. Chapter 4

**I have been pleasantly surprised by the number of reviews, follows and favourites that this story has received, and I just wanted to say a BIG THANK YOU to you all. I hope you continue to enjoy reading this fic. :)**

* * *

Randy strode into the locker room, fixing his wrist tape as he went, the start of Raw was inching closer and closer. He was in his own world and paid no attention to the other bodies that surrounded him in the confines of the room.

He had found himself lost in his own thoughts alarmingly often as of late. He was off his game and it was beginning to show. His timing was constantly off in the ring, he had stumbled over his words on his latest promo on Smackdown and he just didn't feel the electrifying buzz that he normally felt before a show anymore.

Whenever he did find himself lost in his own world there was one thing that world revolved around. It had been a couple of months now, and he thought he would be looking at all the insufferable pain and anguish in the rear view mirror by now, but that wasn't the case.

All those painful emotions still lingered at the forefront of his mind. The cause of his dwindling joy for his job and the hindrance to his performance could also be accredited to that. He just couldn't keep his mind focussed, his head wasn't in the game. Despite his willingness for it to be.

More often than not, he found the best way to shut that world of pain out was to get drunk. Alcohol seemed like the perfect solution the first few nights after, but now it was becoming a crutch.

Every time night fell he would find himself in his hotel room with empty bottles surrounding him, and the heavy aroma of alcohol would still be there whenever he would wake up the following day. Take last week for an example, when he went out with his colleagues after Raw and found himself in such a state that CM Punk of all people wound up helping him back to his hotel room.

Punk.

Now another subject that found its self floating around Orton's skull on a regular basis was the continued and ever increasing presence of CM Punk in his life. They weren't friends. They never had been. Yet in recent history he found himself travelling with the Second City Saint, talking to him more and more, texting him and most shockingly actually enjoying his company to some degree.

With their history of many arguments and run ins Orton had actually surmised Punk wasn't all that bad after all. For some unfathomable reason whenever Punk was around he would never slip into that world of despair.

And as if on cue Punk strolled into the room, stopping to chat with Kofi and Ryder before heading to his bag that he had ditched in the room earlier. He had to disappear earlier in the day to sign hundreds upon hundreds of photos of himself for his fans.

Punk rummaged through his belongings looking for something, once he located his cell he began to text. Once he finished he scanned the room, and it didn't take long for him to look over in Randy's direction. Punk saw Orton was in his own world, his glazed over stare into the wall was solid proof of that and he hesitated at wandering over there to talk to the distant man.

Punk continued to text and check twitter on his cell, while periodically taking the opportunity to quickly glance over at Randy to see him still spaced out.

Punk finally decided to approach him, and as he did he walked into Randy's eye line breaking the spell that had Randy glued to the wall.

'So you didn't get lost then?' Punk smiled, continuing on with poking fun at Orton's bad luck when it came to travelling lately.

'No.' Randy replied simply, he seemed completely detached.

'Well it is good to know that you're capable of travelling on your own.' Punk said to his fellow wrestler. Despite not being enamoured with the idea of Orton travelling with him originally, it hadn't turned out to be all that horrendous. Truth be told, Punk had kind of missed the company while travelling to Oklahoma for Raw that week. Not that he would admit it to anyone. Least of all Orton.

'How long are you going to continue to mock me for that?' Orton questioned, hoping that Punk would drop it soon, or that Punk could at least suffer some misfortune so it was a level playing field.

'At least a few more weeks.' Punk smirked.

Orton smiled before giving Punk the middle finger. A smile? That felt completely foreign to Randy over the last few days, he then realised that Punk had been the one to cause it. That fact alone caused mass confusion within his mind.

'You've recovered from the hangover then?' Punk asked rhetorically as he sat on the bench beside the Viper.

'Yeah, I felt that one for a while though.' Orton shook his head knowing full well that particular hangover was a dreadful one and that it was quickly followed by another less than forty eight hours later as more alcohol was thrown down his throat.

'Believe me I'm still reeling from that night.' Punk joked. 'You were a pain in the ass!'

'I wasn't that bad.' Randy scoffed.

'Like you even remember Randal.' Punk smiled. 'You were so far gone you thought I wanted to get into your pants!'

Orton's brows furrowed together in confusion at that piece of information. No memory of that had bubbled to the surface since that night.

'I did not!' Orton protested.

'I'm afraid you did. I had to retrieve your room key from your pocket because you were to incapacitated to do it yourself and you accused me of trying to get in your pants.' Punk explained, nodding his head as extra confirmation.

'Fuck off.' Orton denied, as he looked for any hint in Punk's eyes that he was winding him up, but he found none.

'I'm telling the truth.' Punk declared.

'Well, it wouldn't surprise me if you did want to get in my pants, I mean look at me.' Orton smirked as he motioned to his well sculptured body. 'Wait, you didn't take advantage of me did you?'

'Oh, trust me if I had you would know about it.' Punk replied, he could match Orton in the bullshit ego department. He laughed as Randy rolled his eyes at him.

Punk rose to his feet and clapped Orton on the shoulder. 'I have to get ready, later man.'

'Yeah, bye Punk.'

Once he had taken a few steps away from Orton he turned back around. 'By the way, I'd be careful when you leave Randal, your big egotistical head might not fit through the door.'

'Fuck you ass-hole.' Randy light heartedly fired back.

'Oh, rush me to the burn unit.' Punk mocked at Orton's lame comeback. After all, no Punk conversation would be complete without a dose of sarcasm.

...

Randy hung up the phone and chucked it forcefully onto the floor smashing the device into smithereens. He had finally got the confirmation. It was almost done. Almost over. He knew it was coming ever since that day when his life irrevocably changed, but it still didn't diminish the hurt.

The hurt as always had manifested into rage, albeit more quickly than usual and now the rage was uncoiled and the demon inside Randy was unleashed. The fire inside raged, it was deeply out of control and the flames swarmed over his flesh and took over his whole body. His body was on fire, and if anyone made the mistake of crossing him they would get burnt.

Orton snatched up his belongings and trudged toward the door leaving the fragments of his destroyed cell phone on the ground. He flung the door open with a crash and he stormed through the narrow corridors, never slowing until he came crashing into the sweat drenched WWE champion.

'Fucking watch it!' Punk instantly responded without even realising who had bumped into him.

'Get the fuck out of my way.' Randy snarled, his fists trembling by his sides.

'I think the word you're looking for is sorry Randal.' Punk shot back. 'What the hell is up with you?' Punk queried taking notice of the Vipers current demeanor. 'Someone steal your ice cream?'

'Is everything a joke to you?' Orton immediately snapped. 'Why don't you just shut the fuck up and stay the fuck out of my way!'

Punk rolled his eyes as he realised the old Randy Orton had made his unwelcome return. Naturally Punk immediately went on the offensive. 'Not everything is a joke to me, but right now the only joke I see is you.'

'Walk on Punk.' Randy warned, his control was almost on empty and the quick witted Straight Edge Superstar wasn't helping any.

Knowing Punk's personality and how easy he could wind Randy up and get under his skin, and add on top of that Randy's current state of mind it became clear that the volatile duo were about to erupt into battle.

'Oh, I'll walk on when I get my apology. Two words Randal, that is all I want.' Punk ignored the warning, and now he could see the grey eyes of the Viper turning into a rage fueled black.

'Stop calling me Randal or I swear I will RKO you right here, right now.' Randy spat out as Punk continued to poke and prod the snake.

'Tell me _Randal_, are you hearing those voices right now?' Punk queried as he put extra emphasis on the use of Randy's full first name just to aggravate the fuming Viper even more. 'If you are, don't. Just listen to one voice. Mine.' Punk got right up into Orton's face. 'And I'll say this really slowly so you understand. Randal. You. Are. A. Colossal. Toolbox.'

Randy was fully consumed by the fire, it blistered his skin, he was seething and before he knew it his trembling fist flew through the air full force and crashed into Punk's jaw sending the man sprawling backwards into the wall behind him.

The Viper was spewing his venom.

Punk never even saw the fist coming and as he collected himself and readied himself for his retaliation to Orton's attack, the furious man walked right past him at a hurried pace and headed straight for the exit.

'You're a fucking ass-wipe Randal!'

Punk sighed as he rubbed at his bearded jaw. He shook his head ruefully, before opening his jaw and moving it side to side to assess the damage. Luckily for Orton there was little. Despite that however, Punk had already decided that revenge would be heading the Apex Predators way.

He couldn't believe he changed his mind and actually thought Randy was a decent human being underneath it all. How wrong could he be?

The different side to Orton that had came to light and that he had seen with his very eyes these last few weeks was now forgotten. Lost in history.

As far as Punk was concerned it could stay that way. He wanted nothing more to do with Orton anymore. He was completely satisfied to revert to their cold and distant acquaintance.

'Fucking douchebag.' Punk muttered another insult despite no one being in the vicinity to hear it, not even the man that it was directed at. He then continued his interrupted journey back to the locker room feeling just as incensed as Orton had mere moments before.

...

It was two am and as usual Punk was wide awake. His insomnia making him resort to channel hopping in his hotel room after he had already read the comic books that he had recently purchased.

As he rushed through tv station after tv station he reflected back on his day. One particular moment stuck out like a sore thumb. That moment being Randy Orton's fist meeting his jaw.

Despite Orton's apparent bad mood and the fraying control of his temper, Punk still didn't expect to be hit. It certainly came out of left field in his opinion.

Punk found the whole thing incredibly puzzling. After weeks of increased exposure to the Viper, Punk had started to understand the man better, to feel comfortable and content in his company, and it seemed Orton was coming to the same conclusion as to how he felt about him.

Now recent events couldn't help the spark of curiosity as to what had changed Orton's attitude toward him so swiftly. It wasn't as if he was a prick to Randy that night. Well no more than normal.

That then led him to the conclusion that he had nothing to do with Orton's hulk out at all. He was an innocent bystander and just happened to get caught up in the dark storm that was Orton's rage. Punk's mind raked back to Orton's last anger induced freak out. When he took out his anger on the dashboard of his rental. Then his mind began to connect the dots.

The obvious reluctance to answer the call on his cell a week back when they were in the locker room after Raw. Randy getting absolutely smashed when they hit the club back in Missouri. Something was going on with Orton, and something that wasn't pleasant. Something personal, and one thing Punk never did was get personal. If someone had a problem he wasn't exactly one to solve them. In fact most of the time he was the catalyst for problems.

Bottom line, Randal needed to deal and get over it Punk concluded.

Just as he switched the television off and chucked the remote control onto the chair near to the bed a loud continuous knocking came at his door.

Punk shifted to the edge of the bed, already getting pissed off that the idiot on the other side of the door was still hammering on his door. 'For fucksake, I'm coming. Stop fucking knocking!' He snapped as he pulled the door open.

He was greeted by the sight of Randy Orton swaying side to side with a bottle of whisky in his hands. Punk didn't say a word he just narrowed his gaze at the Viper. The last person he wanted to see was Orton stood in the hallway.

As Orton stood in silence except for a hiccup here and there, Punk's patience that was already wafer thin dissolved completely. 'What the fuck do you want Randal?'

'I needed to see you.' Randy slurred, the smell of whisky on his breath was so strong Punk had to take a step back.

'Well, now that you've seen me you can fuck off.' With that Punk stepped away from the doorway and attempted to shut the door, but Randy stopped him.

'Please.' Orton mumbled.

Punk huffed, his annoyance at Orton increasing by the second. 'Do you want to punch me again Randal? Because you'll get one back this time.' Punk warned.

Orton began shaking his head over and over holding a hand to the pounding in his head. 'I'm sorry.'

Punk couldn't help the surprise that played itself across his features. Orton apologising? To him? He thought he must be dreaming. Nevertheless Punk shook it off and took no notice of it. 'Yeah, whatever.'

Randy finally looked up at him and Punk could see the glazed over look in the snakes grey eyes. That was all the confirmation he needed. Randy must've consumed the whole alcoholic contents of his mini-bar and then some.

Randy stumbled into Punk's room, meandering his way over to the bed before crashing down onto the soft mattress. Punk gritted his teeth, his own temper beginning to run rampant. He didn't invite the dipshit in. What the hell does he have to do to get Randy to go away?

'Look Randy, I don't give a shit that you hit me okay? So why don't you go back to your room and crash?' Punk suggested, trying to stay calm.

Randy looked back at him, turning himself over and into a sitting position on the bed. He then downed the rest of the whisky from the bottle, the liquid burning as it made its way down his throat. Randy then began to look around his surroundings before turning his attention back to Punk. 'You got any alcohol?'

Punk rolled his eyes, his tolerance for drunken douchebags was never high. Factor in this drunken douchebag punched him less than four hours ago and his tolerance had vanished into obscurity. 'No, I don't have any alcohol, and you've had enough anyway Randal.'

Randy nodded. 'Probably.' Randy then began to laugh, much to Punk's confusion. 'I've just realised how dumb that question was. You're straight edge. No alcohol for you Punk.' Randy smiled as he waved his finger at Punk. 'No alcohol for Punk.'

'Correct you win a prize. Now piss off!' Punk's sarcastic nature decided to make an appearance.

Randy wobbled his way back onto his feet and unsteadily made his way to Punk and the door. Randy reached out for Punk's shoulder as he neared him needing some extra support as his legs were not co-operating with him.

'I really am sorry Punk.' Randy said sincerely, well as sincerely as he could in his drunken stupor.

'What about?' Punk queried, not really paying attention and losing the thread of the conversation. His main focus was now how he could get rid of Orton and get some peace and quiet again. He was a hairs breadth away from just chucking him out on his ass and slamming the door shut, however, he refrained and awaited Orton's reply.

'Punching you in the face!' Orton yelled.

Punk winced at the increased volume level before nodding his understanding. 'Fine. I forgive you now go back to your room and crash.'

Punk moved toward the door, with Orton still leaning on him. He opened the door a fraction before Orton stopped the door opening. Punk ran his hands through his hair, he was getting seriously close to exploding. What does a guy have to do to achieve the solitude he so craves?

Orton then stared at Punk intently, the grey eyes staring into green before travelling down to Punk's lips. Before resting at the jaw. The weapon that damaged Punk's jaw a few hours previous raised once more, but instead of inflicting pain this time it rose to Punk's jaw and a thumb ran delicately over the jaw line.

'Sorry.' Whispered Orton once more.

Orton's hand extended, the whole of his palm cupping Punk's cheek, the thumb still travelling back and forth over the stubbled jaw. Orton looked back up into those green eyes, he was spiralling out of control, and instead of getting lost in the bottom of a bottle he chose a safer option, and got lost in the most gorgeous green he had ever seen.

He leant forward, his hand curling around the back of Punk's neck, his lips inching nearer and nearer to Punk's. As inches disappeared into centimetres he closed his eyes in anticipation.

He wanted to feel. Just to feel something. Anything. He was sick of feeling numb. Sick of feeling empty. He just wanted to feel.

But his choice wasn't the safer option. He was the one playing with fire now and he immediately got burned as two hands met his chest and a harsh shove sent him crashing back into the cabinet behind him. He fell to the floor with a thud, due to his inebriated state he was unable to sustain his vertical base.

'What the fuck Randy?!' Punk asked, his eyes wide with shock. His jaw taking a second shot that day as it hit the floor.

The drunken haze cleared, and Randy's actions dawned on him. He struggled back to his feet, he stumbled and wobbled as his own face equalled the shock and horror that was on Punk's.

'Shit! Shit! Shit!' Randy yelled in despair.

He couldn't bear to look up at Punk. Embarrassed. Confused. Ashamed. His eyes locked to his feet and his gaze didn't falter as he sped past Punk, barging through him as he made for a hasty retreat slamming the door shut behind him.

Punk stood stock still. He was rooted to the spot. Frozen in time.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that for, but he eventually made his way over to his bed. His mind raced, his thoughts all jumbled. But one thought kept on popping up like a big neon sign.

Randy Orton tried to kiss him.

Punk sighed as he led down staring straight up at the blank white ceiling. Even if he didn't suffer from insomnia Punk was sure he wouldn't have got a minute of sleep anyway. Not after the night he had. Not after what just happened.

Randy Orton tried to kiss him.

That would definitely cause him to have a sleepless night.

...


	5. Chapter 5

CM Punk was hiding. Literally hiding. He hadn't sunk to the depths of hiding behind chairs or under tables, but he was most definitely hiding.

Ever since Randy had turned up drunk off his ass at his room in the middle of the night and tried to kiss him Punk had attempted to make himself scarce whenever the Viper was around the same area.

So far he had done a sterling job. However, that could be attributed to him having personal appearances for most of the week and being away from the house show circuit. Unfortunately for him though he was very much back in the fold and Randy was at the house show aswell that night.

Punk knew he would be.

Coincidentally Punk had travel issues causing him to arrive late to the arena for the show that night. Well that was Punk's story and he was sticking to it. A flimsy excuse for sure, but it had worked and it had kept him away from the man that tried to lock lips with him just days prior.

Since then Punk had that moment on repeat, despite telling his brain to bury it and never bring it up again. However, the remote control in his brain had its own ideas, much to his chagrin.

Punk had come at the incident from all angles as he tried to explain away Randy's antics. The simplest explaination being Randy was drunk. He was completely hammered that much was crystal clear, that had to be the reason right?

But Punk's ever chatty brain continued to explore the possibilites. 'Maybe I gave him signals? No, of course I didn't! Or maybe he saw signals that really weren't there?' Punk had thought.

It couldn't have been that Orton was legitimately interested in him though. That would be quite the u-turn. I mean rewind a few months and the only emotion to describe their feelings toward one another was boiling hatred.

Although there is that old saying; there is a fine line between love and hate.

No, it definitely wasn't that. It was the alcohol, it had to be. He was drunk. It caused a brief moment of madness. End of story.

Punk sighed as he checked the time on his iPhone, he was fed up of waiting in the tiny room. His safe haven for the night being a small room off a corridor that was a fair distance from the main locker room.

He had completed his match, managed to shower and get back to his hiding place without so much as a word or a look to or from Randy. All this effort just to create distance between Randy and himself seemed a touch over board. Punk knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to confront the situation.

He knew his abscence would be noted from all the guys, including Orton. But it was tough shit, Punk wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with a tense and awkward conversation. Although true to Orton's and his form the hypothetical conversation would probably degenerate and result in a scuffle that would inevitably wind up with fists hitting jaws once again.

Then it suddenly dawned on him that Orton could be feeling the exact same way. That's if the man had even remembered what had happened in his intoxicated state. He could be completely oblivious to his amorous advances. Or maybe he felt so embarrassed that he wants nothing more than to forget about it just like Punk did.

All this time Punk had been so caught up in his own thoughts, the cogs turning in his own head looking for an answer on how to deal with the situation that he had completely blanked out how Randy could've reacted to it all.

Not that he cared. At the end of the day it was that toolboxes fault. Not his.

No matter how Randy was dealing with it, the one thing Punk was certain of was that he most definitely was not dealing with it.

He also felt that it wasn't the end of the story whatsoever. There were many chapters to come and Punk wanted nothing more than to disappear and to not turn anymore pages. In fact he wished he'd never picked up the damn book in the first place.

...

Raw had just reached its climax and after closing the show and participating in the after show dark match Punk made his way backstage. The roar of the crowd decreased to a dull hum as he made his way through the labrynth of hallways back to the locker room.

Most of the superstars had already left the room, only his fellow participants in the dark match were in the vicinity. Cena, Miz and Jericho quickly showered and made their exit leaving Punk to his own devices.

Punk let out a long sigh finally happy to be in his own company. He removed all his wrestling gear leaving him in just his trunks. He went through to the showers turning on the nearest shower and getting it to the optimum temperature to soothe his aches and pains. He wandered back to the main part of the locker room stripping himself down to his bare skin as he dumped his trunks into his luggage. He slung a soft cotton white towel over his shoulder and went back into the now steam filled showers.

He washed the sticky sweat off his body and washed his hair before revelling in the solitude of being alone. He planted his hands on the cool tiles infront of him and let the water cascade down over his back. His eyes slipped shut as a low moan escaped his lips as he enjoyed the water running over his skin.

Punk wasn't sure how long he stayed like that. His mind just switched off for the first time in weeks, and he found himself with a blank stare just watching the water run into a whirlpool between his feet before disappearing down the drain.

Reluctantly he returned to the world and turned the shower off and dried his wet skin before wrapping the towel around his waist and returned to his luggage. He pulled out a pair of boxers, some camouflage cut off pants and his black ramones tee-shirt. He threw the articles of clothing on and he was quickly ready to leave.

As he scooped up all his belongings together haphazardly he realised he left his shower gel and shampoo in the showers and he went off to retrieve them. As he returned however he was stopped dead in his tracks as Randy Orton stood up against the door to the locker room blocking his exit.

Punk wasn't sure how to proceed. Did he acknowledge Orton? Did he tell him to fuck off? Punk knew what he wanted to do and that was to remove himself from the awkward situation. He had managed to dodge Orton for the whole of Raw, averting his gaze whenever Orton was close and making a hasty exit whenever Orton appeared. Now that option seemed to be off the table. He was trapped.

Punk looked down to the floor and returned to his luggage, he zipped up the large bag and pocketed his cell ready to leave.

The ball was very much in Randy's court as Punk was adamant that he wouldn't make the first move. That was mainly due to the fact that he wasn't even sure of what move to make. It was like an incredibly confusing game of chess, and Punk hated playing chess.

Punk moved toward the door, but Orton didn't flinch he just stood motionless propped up against the door.

Punk rolled his eyes, his patience which was already in short supply evaporated and he gave in. He would make the first move after all. 'Get out the way!' He snapped.

'Punk, we need to talk.' Orton replied quietly, not making any eye contact with the Second City Saint.

'Really? Great, because talking to you is pretty much on the top of my to do list.' Punk resorted to sarcasm, it was always his favourite weapon of choice. 'Move ass-wipe!'

Randy ignored Punk's taunts and sarcastic nature and tried to say what was on his mind. 'Look, what happened last week...' He paused. 'I don't even know to be honest.' Randy shook his head, clearly feeling just as uncomfortable as Punk was.

'You tried to kiss me, Randal.' Punk clarified.

'I know.' Randy replied through gritted teeth. 'I was drunk and I didn't know what I was doing.'

'Fine. Now move.' Punk rebuttaled, coming off completely uninterested.

Punk took a firm hold of the door handle and forced the door open, hitting Orton in the back with a heavy blow without a hint of regret or restraint. As soon as he acquired enough room to slip through he strolled out and walked at warp speed toward the parking lot craving distance from Randy Orton.

He was to be denied.

'Wait, come on Punk.' Randy caught up with him and grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face him. 'Is that it?'

Punk eyebrows furrowed together and he scoffed. 'What did you expect Randal?'

Randy shook his head and shrugged feeling at a loss for words.

'Well that was informitive.' Punk turned on his heels ready to leave once more, but stopped. 'Actually, I do have one more thing to say.'

Randy instantly thought the worse expecting a barrage of insults and scathing retorts that would come from the acid tongue of Punk. Instead Punk smirked before dropping his luggage suddenly with a thud and then he took an all mighty swing at him and punched him square in the jaw sending him stumbling into the wall.

'Payback's a bitch Randal. Come to think of it, so are you.' Punk smirked before slinging his luggage back onto his shoulder and leaving the caught off guard and now fuming Viper clutching his jaw.

...

Punk finished his phone call with his sister and threw his cell onto the bed. He trudged around the room feeling aggitated and fidgety. After punching Orton he felt no sense of closure. No closing of the chapter.

He couldn't put his finger on why but he felt some sense of regret at his act of violent retribution. It was most unlike Punk. Usually he felt an eye for an eye was a fair way to settle things.

He tried to stop the merry go round of thoughts in his head, occupying his time with checking his twitter and rummaging through his luggage for the lastest Incredible Hulk comic he had bought. Just as he settled back into the pillows strewn over the headboard of the double bed in his room ready to get lost in his comic, a knock at the door stopped his intentions.

Punk opened the door to yet again be met with the Apex Predator on the other side. 'Oh for fucksake! I don't want you kissing me again!' Punk didn't hold back on his latest attack, instead he went straight for the jugular.

'I'm not here for that you ass-hole!' Orton snarled, immediately on the back foot from the offense of Punk's words.

'Forgive me, but I'm getting a heavy sense of deja vu. Last time you showed up at my room in the middle of the night you tried to kiss me, so you can't blame me for feeling a little bit edgy.' Punk quipped, so far he was happy with his barbs and sarcasm that was directed at Orton.

'Just shut the fuck up!' Randy bellowed as he barged through Punk and slammed the door shut behind him.

'Please just come on in Randal.' Punk shook his head, his temper heating up at having to deal with Orton for the second time that night.

'Look, I get that you're angry and you hate me, but I was drunk and I just needed to take my mind off things.' Randy babbled as he paced back and forth.

'And the best way to take your mind off things is to kiss me?' Punk queried as he was confused at Orton's last statement.

'No! I mean I got drunk to take my mind off things. Then that didn't work so I thought I'd see you.'

'Why?' Punk thought that was a legitimate question. After all there were a thousand people better qualified to deal with Orton's problems than him. Not to mention that he and Orton weren't friends by any stretch of the imagination.

'Because I thought just talking to someone, being around someone would help.' Orton replied sharply, he hated having to talk about this. Absolutely loathed it.

'Yuh huh, but why me?' Punk asked as he finally looked Randy in the face. He took note of Orton squirming. He was pleased to see he was. At least Randals discomfort matched up to his own. 'Why didn't you go to see Cena or Rhodes or anyone else?'

'Well we've spent more time together lately.' Orton shrugged, before taking notice of Punk's confused face, he was clearly not understanding nor believing Orton's reasoning. 'It seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus I knew you would be the only one awake at that time of night.'

Punk had to give that one to him. His insomnia made sure that he would be up and alert. He always was. 'Fair enough.' He conceeded.

'I really am sorry.' A barely audible whisper came from Orton.

Punk moved away from the door and returned to the double bed. He sat indian style and he ran back over their conversation. He knew what he wanted to ask, the curiousity that he felt before returned once more. He wanted answers, he might as well ask for them. He hoped he wouldn't look back on that decision with regret though.

'So what is going on with you?' Punk finally piped up again.

'What?' Orton asked.

'You said you wanted to take your mind off things. What things?' Punk prodded.

'Nothing.' Randy deflected as he looked away from Punk and his eyes began to travel hectically around the room.

Punk scoffed again. 'Yeah right! Come on tell me. I mean you tried to kiss me, you owe me Randal.' Punk smirked, laying the guilt trip on thick.

Orton huffed as he surmised now was as good a time as any to tell someone about his troubles. 'My wife has filed for divorce.'

Punk winced as Randy revealed his inner turmoil. The regret he worried about before he started his questioning turned out to be prevalent. Punk didn't know what to say. He didn't want to push Orton to explain. Add to that his incredibly bad record at being sympathetic with peoples personal issues made him even more tentative. But the silence that was beginning to descend on the room spurred him on.

'Sorry man, that sucks.' That sucks?! Really? Good one. Punk silently chastised himself at his pathetic reply. Another reminder of why he doesn't do personal.

'I didn't see it coming at all, and since then I've been angry all the time and getting drunk all the time and to be honest I'm all over the place.' Once Randy started he couldn't stop. His emotions coming out think and fast.

'If you don't mind me asking, what was her reason for splitting up with you?' Punk asked with some rarely shown tact. Even he was surprised by that.

'She hated me being on the road all the time. We barely saw each other. I told her before we married that would be the case, but she swore we would make it work, and we did. Or so I thought.'

Punk chewed his lip, unable to come up with a reply. His mind yelled at him once more that he never coped well with personal and emotional conversations, so he circled back to a topic that he himself could relate to. The eruption of the volcano that was Orton's temper. 'So you lashing out at my rental, and more recently at my jaw was down to this?'

'Partly.' Randy stated.

'Partly?'

'You had a lot to do with it. You can be an annoying fucker.' Randy smiled faintly over at Punk.

'It has been said on more than one occasion.' Punk nodded. 'How's your jaw by the way?'

Randy stroked over his jaw and chin. 'Not too bad. I guess I deserved that though.'

'Like there's any doubt. You're lucky I didn't GTS you right there and then.' Punk stated confidently.

'Yeah, I'm real lucky.' A solemn Orton responded.

The awkward tension made its comeback and swept them up in their waves and Punk was at a complete loss as to how to continue. He watched as Randy stared out the window into the dark of the night. The revealation had answered a lot of questions that Punk had been mulling over in recent times, and now he finally felt some closure.

The silence remained however. Never before had silence seemed so deafening and eventually Punk reached his breaking point. The sarcasm button was reactivated.

'I guess she could do better than you though.' Punk said dryly.

Randy's head snapped around, the venom rising from deep within. Once he turned though he was greeted with a stupid grin plastered over Punk's face. Much to his surprise Randy couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his own face.

'You fucker.' Randy laughed. Orton suddenly summarised that he was becoming accustomed to Punk's sarcastic nature and overall personality.

Punk chuckled too. 'So, I guess you've had a lot of action from Mrs. Palm and her five daughters lately then huh?' Punk joked as wiggled his fingers at Randy.

Randy laughed even harder shaking his head in disbelief at the lack of restrain from Punk to humiliate him even after everything he had told him that night. Randy was actually grateful for that.

And truth be told Punk's words were gospel. Since the split there was a significant increase in the amount of times he had masturbated.

'You're a bastard.' Randy replied light heartedly.

Punk nodded. 'Yeah, I know.'

Punk moved from his indian style sitting position to sit back against the headboard, he reached for the remote and the television flashed back to life. 'You want to watch some shitty late night programs?'

Randy seemed to be split over the decison. He was glad that the problems between Punk and himself seemed resolved, but whenever he and Punk were together there always seemed to be some dramatic altercation as of late.

'Why not.' He pushed his reservations aside and finally answered as he walked around the bed ready to sit beside Punk.

'Whoa, hold it there.' Punk stuck a hand out to halt the man in his tracks. 'You can sit in the chair, I don't want you getting the wrong idea and have you try to kiss me again. I know what you're like.' Punk smirked evily up at the standing and thoroughly embarrassed Randy Orton.

Orton slumped back into the chair then looked back at Punk. 'I'm never going to live this down am I?'

'What do you think?' Punk asked.

'Oh great! This is going to be even worse than the constant reminder of how I can't travel on my own.' Randy whinged as he realised Punk would taunt him relentlessly whenever he felt the need. Which knowing Punk would be often.

'Of course it is!' Punk confirmed his intentions. 'Now shut up and watch this crappy tv show...you homo!'

...

* * *

**Well, I hope you liked it. I just had to get Punk saying 'you homo' in there for obvious reasons lol. I'm already working on the next chapter and it's currently killing my brain! Thank you for the continued support with reviews, faves and follows you are all awesome! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! Me again! Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! Seeing as I won't be able to write much in the next couple of weeks due to being ridiculously busy, I thought I'd try and update before that! So here is chapter 6. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Randy looked around Punk's hotel room, noticing clothes strewn all over the place. The WWE championship hanging off a bed post. A mass amount of comic books spread out over the duvet. The champ was currently in the bathroom having a shower before they would both depart for the arena for that nights show.

It was a big show. They were in Milwaukee, Wisconsin for the Elimination Chamber ppv and they would both be stepping inside the brutal structure that night. It had been a long while since they were in the same match, and both felt a sense of trepidation. As was the case most of the time when you would be caged in the chamber. Wrestling may be fake, but both Orton and Punk could tell you how the body gets battered and maimed inside the chamber.

For the first time in months Randy was actually excited about the show. The intense electrifying buzz that he used to feel before a show had returned. Randy actually felt a whole lot better all round in his life. The pit of despair was a thing of the past, he had scraped and clawed his way out. He had accepted his impending divorce and made the decision to look to the future. He had no clue as to what that held for him, but he would embrace it. Or at least that is what he told himself.

His in ring performance had returned to its previous high level, his rage had now rescinded from boiling point to a low simmer. He was happy and jovial backstage with his colleagues and friends once again.

Another turning point was that he no longer reached for the bottle. Or at least he hadn't for the last couple of weeks. He was now sleeping without that particular aid.

So there he sat, feeling content with his life for the first time in months as he waited for Punk to get ready. They had decided to travel to the arena and the following nights Raw together after stumbling into each other in the lobby. Randy had arrived at Punk's room early and had been waiting for him for upwards of twenty minutes.

Since Randy bared his soul and revealed his predicament and struggles to Punk they had found a comfortable acquaintance. Randy even thought it was now bordering on a friendship. A tumultuous friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

Punk had continuously reminded him of his drunken idiocy of trying to kiss him multiple times over the two weeks since that fateful night, and Randy knew he just had to take it on the chin. He was still full of horror and embarrassment at his own actions. He had no earthly idea what possessed him. Well the mini-bar possessed him really. Or at least the alcoholic contents of the mini-bar. He still winces every time he thinks about the bill he had to pay the following morning when he checked out.

After he and Punk had cleared the air a thought suddenly dawned on him. What if Punk tells people? For a few days he stewed on the subject, he worried himself sick before finally asking Punk not to. Punk just looked at him as if he had grown an extra head and casually replied 'That's our business, nobody else's.' His mind was at ease instantly. Despite being a jerk a large quantity of the time, Punk could be a decent guy on rare occasions.

The door to the bathroom swung open, steam billowing out before Punk emerged. Randy looked over at him to see a towel loosely fastened around his waist. Hanging almost dangerously low on his hips.

Seeing other men near to nakedness wasn't anything new. Randy had seen Punk in a towel many times over the years in the locker room. Hell, a few times he had seen Punk without it. So why was he sat on Punk's bed unable to tear his gaze away?

'I'm almost ready.' Punk said, as he walked over to his luggage.

'Great.' Randy replied almost robotically.

Randy looked away from Punk momentarily but his grey eyes couldn't help but focus straight back on to the wet CM Punk. Punk's wet skin glistened in the light, his tattoos on his chest seeming brighter than ever, and Randy stared and he got lost in the maze of colours. Punk moved around the other side of his bed checking his cell, saving Randy from getting lost forever in the confusing maze of colour.

Randy looked back up to Punk's face, luckily for him Punk hadn't noticed his ogling. Randy skipped back down to Punk's chest. The soft rise and fall became almost hypnotic. It was far and away from Randy's own chest. His was heaving, his heart was pounding so hard in his chest he thought it was about to burst.

A single droplet of water ran from Punk's chest and Randy couldn't help but be swept up in its journey. He watched as it ran over the left nipple and down over Punk's stomach. Randy silently read the 'straight edge' tattoo that hovered just above Punk's belly button. The single drop picked up speed as it went down to Punk's pelvis over the well defined hip dents. Randy was unable to rip his gaze away as it ran further south. Lower and lower. Then it disappeared, being swallowed up by the white cotton towel.

Randy lingered at the spot where skin met cotton, a single wish being silently asked. I wish I could follow that droplet. He was suddenly startled as Punk's voice pierced the bubble he was in.

'What?' Randy responded, taken completely off guard. Another wish was asked, that being he hoped Punk hadn't noticed his staring.

'I said, I'll be back in a minute.' Punk grabbed his clothes as well as his razor and returned to the bathroom. He was only gone for five minutes before telling Randy he was ready to leave and head to the arena for the big ppv.

Randy may have been startled by Punk when he interrupted his thoughts. But even more startling to Randy, was what those thoughts consisted off and where they had come from.

Startled? Yes, most definitely startled.

...

Punk had retained the WWE title lastly eliminating Miz from the chamber. He was going to Wrestlemania and he knew who he would be facing. He and Jericho were anxious to work a program together and wrestle at the biggest show of them all, the seeds had already been planted and it was now a fore gone conclusion. Punk vs. Jericho was on.

As for Randy, he was third eliminated from the chamber, his road to Wrestlemania was still a path of mystery. A number of ideas had been pitched, the one most intriguing to Randy was working a rivalry with a newly masked Kane. They had fought a number of times over the years, most recently on Smackdown in the summer just past. It was a great contest one that both men were proud of and Orton would be happy to recreate that on the big stage. It may not be a WWE or World title match, but he'd be happy with that.

Wrestlemania was still weeks away though and for now tonight was taking its toll. As predicted both Punk and Orton, as well as the four other combatants in the chamber match were feeling a little worse for wear. Bruised and battered was the best way to describe them.

Randy's back had bore the brunt. A nasty back drop over the ropes onto the hard cold steel pummelled his back in the most torturous way. Another trip over the ropes onto the steel had caused a hefty blow to his elbow as he tried anything to spare his back from another punishing blow. Randy knew he would feel the pain for days, possibly even weeks to come.

Punk too had his fair share of pain inflicted upon his body. A back suplex from Kofi went awry as Punk tried to land on his feet, but instead he crashed excruciatingly painfully onto the steel right hip and thigh first. Punk grimaced as soon as he hit, his fist pounding onto the steel as stabs of pain rocked his body. He felt the jolts of pain throughout the rest of the match until its conclusion, and now as the adrenaline wore off and he walked around the locker room he found it increasingly difficult to put his full weight down on his right leg.

All in a day for a wrestler Punk told himself.

Kofi congratulated him on a great match and patted him on the back before vacating the room. Jericho and Miz following suit mere minutes later. Just Randy and himself remained. Both men hadn't got far in their individual process of getting ready to leave. They were still in their ring gear. Both looked and felt absolutely exhausted.

'Hey.' Randy chimed. 'You did great out there tonight.'

Another compliment from Orton. They were almost becoming a regular occurrence. 'Thanks. You too.' Punk returned the kind sentiment.

'Are you feeling as beat up as me?' Randy queried as he stretched out his back, wincing as he felt something click followed by another stab of pain.

'Honestly, I feel like the walking dead.' Punk admitted, as he shook his head at Randy before collapsing back onto the bench, his legs giving up on their fight to keep him upright.

'You look like it too.' Randy replied light-heartedly, as he rubbed at his temple.

'Gee, thanks.' Punk retorted, taking offence at the Vipers words.

'Sorry.' Randy smiled over at Punk, getting a faint smile in return. 'Man, I really need to shower, but I don't think I'm able to move.'

Punk nodded in agreement. 'I don't think I'll be able to move for at least a week.'

After enjoying the momentary rest, Punk made himself get up onto his feet and started to get his shampoo and shower gel out of his luggage.

On the opposite side, Randy lifted his head and peered over at the Second City Saint. For the second time that day Randy got enthralled. The way the muscles shifted in Punk's back as he moved around drew Randy's gaze in closer. Punk's skin glistened with sweat, the shine exaggerated further by the bright lights over head. The adrenaline that had begun to wane in Orton's veins changed into a full on assault.

Randy found some strength as he got to his feet, it was like an outer body experience as he rushed over to Punk. He took a rough hold of Punk's wrist and dragged him through the nearest door.

Punk was caught off guard as he was dragged into the bathroom, he was about to protest and question Randy's actions but before he could he was pushed harshly into the nearest toilet cubicle with Randy following in his tracks. The door slammed shut and again Randy's reactions were quicker than his as he was forced against the door. His head and back banging off the wood.

'Randy what the fuck?' Punk managed to spit out.

However, no answer was given. Instead Randy's lips crashed into his. Randy's hands holding on to his shoulders as his lips moulded to his. Punk's brain was trying to play catch up and once it realised what was happening Punk forced his hands between Randy's and his own sweaty chests and pushed hard to cause some much needed separation.

He attempted to say something, but no words came out. The Voice of the Voiceless was now voiceless himself. Randy lunged at him once more, his hands coming to rest on his sides as soft lips met his again.

Punk couldn't fathom this latest situation. The most confusing element being his reaction to it. Despite the shock he felt himself reacting in a positive way to Randy's forceful advances.

Randy pulled away gasping for air licking his lips looking almost predatory. Randy then looked up to Punk dead in the eye, and as Punk returned the intense stare Randy's fingers ran delicately over Punk's stomach down to his trunks. Fingers hooked under the fabric and slowly more of Punk's skin was revealed.

Ice grey swept into hazel green and for the first time Punk took the initiative. His almost forgotten hands that were still palm down on Randy's chest slipped away and one hand curled around the back of the Vipers neck and pulled him in close engaging in another breath stealing kiss.

The kiss was sloppy and forceful and hands groped flesh leaving marks in their wake. The heat intensified as Randy ground his hips into Punk's causing a delicious friction. Punk threw his head back, smacking it against the door he was pushed up against and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as Randy began to nibble and kiss at his exposed throat.

The hand on the back of Randy's neck remained, clutching it tightly not wanting Randy's lips to leave his skin. Punk looked back down catching Randy's lips with his own as another feverish kiss began. Randy ran his tongue against the seal of Punk's lips and without hesitation Punk acquiesced. Randy's tongue swept into his mouth hungrily and Punk was taken aback by Randy's forcefulness and lack of hesitation.

Punk hurriedly found his feet and swirled his own tongue against Orton's, the intensity of the kiss increasing to dangerous levels. If there was a warning alarm it would be ringing at full volume. Punk kissed Randy back hungrily wanting to taste all that there was to taste about the man that was currently flush against him, grinding his hips against his.

Randy's fingers were still hooked into the top of Punk's trunks and without further preamble he tugged them down freeing Punk's erect cock to the cool air. Punk gasped as his cock bounced out from the confines of his trunks hitting Randy's chiselled abs with a slap.

Randy pulled Punk's trunks down further onto Punk's thighs before raking his nails back up the smooth muscular thighs to Punk's hips. Punk moaned into Randy's mouth as the pleasure he was feeling collided with pain as he remembered his injured thigh and hip. It didn't derail his intentions however. He continued to kiss Randy as he returned the favour freeing Randy's rock hard dick from his trunks.

Once his cock was exposed Randy hitched Punk up against the door and Punk wrapped his legs around the Vipers waist. Randy smirked at Punk, and it was returned immediately before Orton dived back to Punk's lips kissing him and then capturing Punk's lip ring between his teeth and pulling at it gently.

Punk raked furrows down Randy's back as his lip ring was toyed with. He grabbed hold of Randy's head harshly and pulled Randy's teeth from the metal. Randy stared into the green again and he got lost in the whirlpool that was the intense lust in Punk's eyes. Punk met his lips, as they met in the middle.

Punk tightened his legs around Randy's waist pulling him closer to his body and finally their bare cocks touched. Punk moaned into Randy's mouth as he felt the head of Randy's cock brush up the length of his penis before rubbing against his own cock head.

The new angle caused a shiver to run down Randy's spine, he felt Punk's manhood twitch against his own and a moan escaped his lips this time, but it was swallowed up by Punk's mouth that refused to leave his. Randy proceeded to thrust his hips against Punk's creating the most delicious and intense friction between their cocks.

It was all becoming too much for Punk, he closed his eyes as he was consistently thrust back painfully against the door. Randy wasn't being gentle, not that Punk wanted him to be. Truth be told, Punk didn't even know what he wanted. Punk had checked out as soon as Randy's lips first met his. All that was left was a void, an all that void wanted was to feel. And it currently enjoyed what it felt.

Randy thrust up against Punk once more smearing the pre-cum that was leaking from his head down his and Punk's shaft. Randy's lips parted from Punk's and he kissed over Punk's stubbled jaw and cheek before resting his sweaty forehead against Punk's equally sweaty forehead.

Randy peered down and despite the close proximity in which their bodies found themselves in he could just about see their hot cocks trapped between their bodies sliding beautifully against each other.

Punk opened his eyes and followed Randy's gaze to see his cock rubbing against Orton's. That was a scene he never thought he would see. Never before had he imagined he would end up engaging in sexual activity with another man, but right then and right there, he couldn't deny that Randy's body felt great rocking up against his own.

Randy's exertion was starting to take its toll. After such a taxing match and now supporting the vast majority of Punk's weight his muscles began to burn. The lactic acid in his thighs was screaming at him to stop, but he persevered knowing that both he and Punk were approaching their climax.

Randy's dick head kissed Punk's once more and a low guttural moan escaped both men. Punk's body was tingling, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. He felt his balls tighten and his impending climax reached closer.

Randy's limbs were trembling, his body close to shutting down, but his resolve to continue increased as he heard the most delicious moan escape from Punk. He looked back up at Punk their eyes collided once more. Punk pulled Randy by the neck into his body and kissed him passionately.

Punk's body turned rigid in Randy's grasp as their cocks slid against each other, and both felt Punk's member twitch as he reached his climax. Expletive after expletive fired from Punk's mouth between long drawn out moans. Punk's orgasm shook him to the core as his cum spilled out of him and coated Randy and his stomachs.

Randy peppered kisses all over Punk's lips, his dick now slid with ease over Punk's now that it was lubricated with Punk's cum. He looked at Punk seeing his face in utter bliss as he reached his own earth shattering climax. He too used Punk's and his stomach as a canvas as spurt after spurt of cum erupted from his cock.

Randy let go of Punk's thighs and collapsed into Punk's now even sweatier chest. He rested his head on Punk's shoulder gasping for oxygen.

Punk was slowly returning from his post coital haze, his feet were now back on the floor and his hands were still running up and down the length of Randy's spine. Reality dawned on him in a hurry, crashing into him with a force of a tank. He felt Randy's and his rapidly softening cocks trapped between them. He could feel the pools of cum sticking to his skin. His chest was still heaving, sucking air back into his lungs. He opened his eyes to see the far wall of the toilet stall staring back at him.

He shook his head and closed his eyes tightly not believing what he had just done. It had to be a dream. A fucked up dream. But when he opened them he was still in that room. Randy was still slumped up against him. His dick was still resting against Randy's.

'Shit.' Punk said so faintly that Randy didn't hear it. Punk didn't even hear it. He wasn't even sure he said it.

He needed space. He needed to get out of there. He couldn't breathe. There was no air.

Punk suddenly pushed Randy off him with brutal force sending him flying back against the parallel wall. Randy looked up at him confusion dancing in his eyes. Punk turned a furious glare in Randy's direction while pulling his trunks back on and covering himself up feeling self conscious all of a sudden. He wiped the sweat off his brow then opened the stall door and slammed it behind him, the echo reverberating around the now eerily silent room.

He ran into the locker room snatching up his belongings, not bothering to change out of his wrestling gear as he ran out of that room also.

He needed distance. Distance from that room. Distance from Randy. Distance from the memories that room would conjure up.

But as he reached the parking lot and jumped into his rental, he realised he couldn't out run the memories of his and Randy's conquest.

He had memories all over him. He could taste Randy on his tongue. He could feel Randy's skin on his. He could feel the sticky substance of Randy's climax on his stomach.

He knew that he couldn't forget what happened. The memory wouldn't leave him.

Instead, it would haunt him.

...

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**Writing this chapter made my brain explode! It was such an important part and I wanted it to be perfect, or as close to perfect as it could get. Fingers crossed you all liked it! I'm so nervous posting this, so now that I have posted, I'm off to hide lol. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow! The response to the last chapter was more than I could ever hope for, so thank you EVERYONE! I'm sorry it has been a while since I've updated, as I said I was really busy. But when I was ready to post this my internet decided not to work, and I couldn't figure out why. So after 5 days without internet access I finally found out that my internet security somehow blocked my connection! Like wtf? So, basically I wanted to post this nearly a week ago! Sorry for the wait! But now it's finally here! I hope you enjoy it!**

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It was a mystery.

An absolute and utter mystery.

Punk was completely mystified at his actions. How he found himself backed up against a toilet cubicle door with Randy Orton's body pressed up hard against his own he will never know.

Not once before in his life had he ever imagined having any sexual activity with another man. Let alone that man's name being Randy Orton.

Punk's mind kept raking back over that night. Why hadn't he stopped it? Why hadn't he punched Randy as soon as he dragged him into that room?

Those questions remained unanswered. They were left unanswered not because he didn't know the answer, but because he was scared of it.

Punk had no contact with Orton since that night, physical or otherwise and in the days that had passed he had been thankful for that small mercy. Having to come face to face with Randy filled him with dread.

For Punk all this had just highlighted the fact that whenever Orton and he were together the result would be toxic. Nothing good has ever come from their acquaintance. The only constant was abuse, both verbal and physical, and mass amounts of confusion.

Admittedly the confusion was a relatively new aspect for Punk, yet the most prevalent currently. Trying to comprehend the latest development Punk had discovered it was like banging his head against a brick wall. Actually, Punk had done that and not just in the metaphorical sense.

The night it happened, after he fled from Orton and the arena, he returned to his hotel room and immediately took a shower. He took off his shorts that he had put on in the car; he thought it would look weird and conspicuous if he were to arrive and walk through the hotel lobby in just his wrestling trunks. He adjusted the water temperature before removing his trunks too, and as he stood naked he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at him was just another reminder of what he had done.

His own reflection mocked him.

The steam and the water cocooned him as he washed his body clean, he paid special attention to his stomach and penis. He wanted to rid himself of the remnants of his sexual encounter. He scrubbed his stomach raw, blotches of red painting itself on his skin. The anger he felt inside made his hands shake violently as he grimaced at the memory of feeling Orton's climax cover his body.

He began to feel nauseous as more and more parts of his encounter kept flashing in front of his eyes and into the forefront of his mind.

Randy's hands. His skin. His tongue. His taste.

Punk screwed his eyes shut tightly banishing the memory away with all his might, but the frustration ripped threw his body, boiling over and before he knew it his knuckles met the iced white tiles of the bathroom wall before his head joined the party as it bounced forcefully off the ceramic tiling.

It all seemed like a bad, twisted, fucked up dream. But it wasn't. There was no logic to it, but it was the cold hard undeniable truth. A truth Punk couldn't accept nor face.

At least not yet.

He was angry, well he was fuming actually, but not at Randy for once. Okay, so he was a little irked at Randy, but more so at himself. He was livid. He was ashamed. He had let himself down.

He had broken a law he lived by. A law that encompassed his lifestyle.

Now he would pay the consequences of his actions. He was in prison now. Instead of metal bars to cage him in he was imprisoned by his rage, his shame and his stupidity.

After emerging from the shower he found his way over to his bed. He hit the switch, turning off the bedside light causing the room to plunge into darkness. The room was silent, yet all he could hear was Randy's deep breaths and guttural moans in his ear. All he could feel was Randy's breath tingling against the skin on his neck and the feeling of another mans hard flesh pulsating against his own.

Fists pounded against the mattress, the irritation increasing at the unwanted memories. Punk ran his hands over his face hoping to erase those thoughts as if they were on a black board, but it was to no avail.

Punk stared up into the dark as he led on his bed, a small hope of getting even a few minutes of sleep lingered, but he knew his effort would be in vain.

So, he just led still and stared, getting lost in the black abyss as he watched his memories replay over and over on the ceiling above him. And as the memories got more heated, as they got more intense Punk was horrified to find himself getting more and more aroused.

That was the ultimate escalation in confusion.

...

Punk walked down the deserted corridor, he was on his way to catering after dumping his luggage in the locker room ready for another edition of Monday Night Raw. Out of nowhere a firm grasp took hold of his wrist and he was whisked away into a dark room.

Punk blinked trying to accustom himself to the dark, it was a stark contrast to the bright lights that were previously located above his head, but suddenly the room was bathed in a similar bright light. Punk took notice of mops and brooms and cleaning products and realised he had been dragged into a supply closet. His eyes then roamed to the door and there stood leant against it was his worse nightmare.

Randy Orton.

Punk glared at him making it crystal clear to the Viper that he did not want to be there.

'We need to talk.' Randy said determinedly.

'No, that is the last thing we need to do.' Punk snapped, before amending that statement. 'Actually, it's the second to last thing we need to do.'

Randy nodded his head boarding Punk's train of thought at that particular station. Their sexual encounter was hardly the smartest choice either of them had made. 'Right, I get that you don't want to be around me, but we really need to talk about this.'

Punk gazed around the room. There were no exits, save for the one behind Randy.

'Really? I don't agree. All I want to do is forget.' Punk replied sternly. He stepped forward approaching the door, but Randy blocked his path instantly. Punk's glare turned more ferocious at Randy as he sighed in sheer annoyance and anger.

'Keep your cock in your pants!' Punk yelled as he gave in and decided to let Orton say his piece. It's not like he had much in the way of options anyway. If there was no exits then he wanted as much distance from Orton as possible within the confines of the tiny room.

'There's no danger moron.' Randy shook his head. 'Look you want to forget? Good, me too.' Randy nodded as he looked straight at Punk. 'But how's that working out for you so far?'

Punk looked away from Randy knowing that trying to forget what happened was so far a massive failure. He suspected it was similar for Randy too.

'Thought as much.' Randy continued, reading Punk's body language. At least he wasn't the only one Randy thought to himself.

Randy stepped closer to Punk which was immediately met with a raised eyebrow and a step back from Punk. Punk backed up against the far wall taking position between the brooms and a vacuum cleaner. Punk couldn't help a slight wry smile creep onto his face.

How the fuck had his life turned into this?

'Fine. You want to talk? Get on with it.' Punk replied coldly.

'I just...I didn't want this to make things weird between us.' Randy stuttered and mumbled.

Punk shook his head in disbelief. 'Right, everything is going to be freakin' perfect! Doofus!'

'I mean, I know it will be weird, but I hope that we can get past it.' Randy spoke candidly as he moved closer to Punk once more.

Again Punk countered that by moving away from his current location to now hanging out with the mops. It was going to take more than a mop to clean up the mess that Punk had found himself in this time. He looked back over at Randy, the tension could be cut with a knife and Punk could tell that Orton really wasn't comfortable and didn't want to be in the predicament either.

Punk rolled his head, his neck clicking as he prepared to speak and for the onslaught of tension and awkwardness to swarm around him. 'I don't do that. Okay? I don't.' Punk spoke, his voice quiet, a rare occurrence.

Randy scoffed at Punk's answer. 'What and you think I do? I'm just as shocked as you, I mean you're a man, it's not what I usually associate with sex!' Randy yelled, clearly irritated with Punk's statement.

Punk bitterly shook his head. 'That's not what I mean. I don't do _that_. I don't, I never have. It's not who I am!' Punk's volume increasing to combat that of Orton's.

'It's not who I am!' Randy shouted as he gestured wildly to himself, the situation was close to spiralling out of control.

Punk bit at his lip, he wasn't feeling particularly tolerant. Especially when faced with this dilemma. 'You don't understand!'

'Then explain it to me?!' Randy bellowed.

Another rueful shake of his head. 'Just forget it Randal.'

Punk was struggling to find the right words and the right way to explain, it was all to much for him. He was fuming and he just wanted to get out of the room. It felt to him that the walls were closing in around him, crushing him inside, he was losing oxygen as they boxed him in. He had lost his voice, his ultimate weapon. It was the last straw, he barged into Randy with a colossal force and escaped from the room.

Randy watched as the door closed, leaving him alone. He thought about following Punk, but he could read that Punk was mad. Add to that his own spiralling anger he decided it was best to stay put.

He then came to the realisation that Punk had called him Randal for the first time in weeks. The use of his full name could be traced back to when their relationship was non-existent. Randy felt a twinge of disappointment as it dawned on him that they had essentially travelled back in time and that they had reverted back to being distant and cold.

...

Punk was in a foul mood. He wasn't exactly in a happy state of mind beforehand, but since his unscheduled meeting with Randy in a supply closet he had been an absolute jerk. He snapped at numerous people backstage, barged past people in the hotel, he wasn't exactly courteous to the receptionist at the hotel either. Now in the solace of his room, his rage hadn't quelled.

He had managed to get through Raw and leave the arena without anymore further conversing with Orton, much to his relief. He had seen the Viper however. In fact he kept finding himself looking around the vicinity for him, and whenever he did Randy would already be looking at him.

The look he received, seemed to be full of regret. Or at least that is how Punk read it. Apart of him wanted to try and talk to Orton again, to lay everything out on the table, but it was at war with his temper. As was the case the vast majority of the time his temper won out.

A knock on the door sounded, and Punk wished that whoever it was would just disappear. His wish went unheard as the knocking returned. Punk sighed, as he set his comic book down on the bed and walked over to the door. His stomach dropped as he came to the conclusion that he knew who was on the other side. He just sensed it.

Randy stood there meeting Punk's gaze as the door opened. Punk said nothing. Randy said nothing. To any bystanders it must look ridiculous. Randy shook his head, he had enough, this was pathetic. He strolled into the room not waiting for an invitation and he felt relief when he heard the door close behind him.

'What's it going to be tonight Randal? Are you going to kiss me or pour your heart out?' Punk fired at him spitefully.

'Screw you Phillip!' Randy snarled back. If Punk could revert back to being cold and distant so could he, despite his reticence to do so.

Punk eyes glowed with a fire born from pure rage as his limbs trembled with fury. How could a toolbox like Orton get to him so easily? Somehow he managed to swallow the ball of fire down and through gritted teeth he replied. 'What do you want?'

'The same as earlier, to talk.' Randy replied.

'We've done that.' Punk snapped.

'No, we talked for all of a minute before you ran off like a pussy.' Randy knew that he was goading Punk, he just didn't care. Punk constantly wound him up, it was about time he tasted some of his own medicine.

'I don't want to talk Randal. So fuck off!' Punk stated firmly as a piercing gaze shot at Randy laden with menace.

'So what, you're just going to continue to be a complete dumbass for the rest of time?' Randy sniped.

Punk guffawed at Randy's response. 'You're one to talk. If there were medals for dumbassery you would win gold every time.'

'For fucksake!' A sudden outburst from Randy knocked Punk off kilter for a moment. 'Why can't you just say what's on your fucking mind? You said I didn't understand earlier, so explain it!' Randy saw Punk roll his eyes and shake his head. 'Fucking explain it!' Randy demanded.

'Fine!' Punk yelled at him as he pushed off the wall, Randy was sure Punk was about to clock him, instead the Second City Saint began to pace. 'I told you I didn't do that right?' Punk looked at Randy waiting for a reply that came in the form of a nod. 'Well I don't. I don't do promiscuous sex. It's not straight edge. Happy?' Punk asked, his green eyes bored straight into the Viper.

Randy winced as he understood why Punk was so angry. Despite not really understanding the straight edge lifestyle or why anyone would want to live with those rules, he had seen over the last six years how much Punk respected them. He abided by them without fail.

Until that night.

Until him.

Punk closed his eyes, feeling a significant weight lifted off his shoulders. He wasn't ashamed of telling Orton that it was against his straight edge lifestyle, but he was ashamed of having to admit out loud that he had broken that rule. It made it seem real. Too real for Punk's liking.

Punk looked back at Orton and a faint apologetic smile came from his fellow wrestler. Orton certainly knew how to surprise him. First it was with compliments, now with sincerity. Punk tore his gaze from Orton and then sat on the edge of the bed.

Randy wasn't sure on how to reply to Punk's admission. What could he say? Sorry wasn't exactly a word that was often used in Orton's vocabulary. Well unless he was drunk. He watched as Punk fidgeted on the bed, his feet tapping on the floor and his palms running over the fabric of his jeans. Did Punk have nervous habits?

Eventually Randy moved. He sat beside Punk on the edge of the mattress. Punk's head rotated and turned to him. Their eyes met and despite not saying a word, a conversation ensued. Some form of understanding was reached. A slight smile curled Punk's lips and it was followed by Randy's.

All the anger, the rage, the frustration was forgotten.

Randy understood Punk's situation, but one word lingered in his head. Why. He couldn't make a decision on whether to query Punk on it. He didn't want to reinstall all the tension and anger between them, but his curiosity piqued.

The quiet question arrived. 'Why did you?' He felt Punk's eyes back on him, a look on confusion running through the green. He clarified his question. 'What we did, if it wasn't straight edge why did you do it?'

Punk looked away from him. He had assessed that conundrum over and over and over again. He was desperate for the answer, but deep down he knew he had already obtained it. The question now was could he voice it.

Punk looked back to see Randy still looking at him. The icy grey eyes swept into Punk's and they engulfed him. The answer came. 'Got caught up in the moment.'

A spark rose between them, it electrified them and every sensation and feeling that they felt during their sexual encounter swarmed and swirled around them all over again. Punk sat up straight and with his voice steady and full of determination he spoke. 'Caught up in you.'

Randy nodded, reminding himself to breathe as he sucked air back into his lungs. 'I know the feeling.' Randy concurred, his voice barely above a whisper.

'I don't know what is happening here.' Punk gestured between Randy and himself.

'Me either.' Randy agreed.

At that precise moment in time Randy felt as if they were speeding down a road without brakes, and he became all to aware of what could happen next. He took his foot off the accelerator and fumbled for the missing brake. He managed to find it and he slammed on it and everything came to an emergency stop.

'I guess it was just a moment of madness. I mean, it isn't like we want it to happen again. Nothing can come of it.' Randy continued his words coming out thick and fast.

A look of confusion ran itself over Punk's features for a split second as the conversation splintered off on a detour from its original apparent destination. Or at least the destination in which Punk thought it was travelling toward.

'Right.' Punk replied uncharacteristically quietly.

'So, we've talked about it. We've sorted it all out. We've accepted it. Now we can forget about it.' Randy said his words coming out practically in a jumble. He stood from the bed and made a bee line for the door.

'Yeah, time to forget about it.' Punk nodded his agreement as he to rose to his feet.

'Yeah.' Randy nodded, he took one last glance back at Punk.

'Right, I guess we're done.' Punk replied.

'Yeah, I'll go.' Randy opened the door. 'Later Punk.'

Punk watched the door close as he returned to his solitude. Finally Orton and he spoke candidly and for the second time he was submerged into dangerous waters.

When he was honest about getting caught up in the moment that night, and when he told Randy he got caught up in him all those emotions returned and hit him hard in waves, and as the barrage of waves intensified he could see that he was sinking into their depths. He felt an incredible urge to reach out toward Orton, but Randy backed off. Hell he did more than that, he practically ran out the room at warp speed!

Punk wasn't sure of what happened. It seemed that they were on the same page briefly, but Randy proceeded to rip the page out and throw it in the trash. Punk luckily managed to quickly regain his composure, his cool and calm demeanour returned and then Randy had made his swift exit.

Now that they had their discussion about that fateful night Punk initially hoped that would be the end of it. It was soon abundantly clear that wouldn't be the case at all.

He now had a whole new weight on his shoulders to deal with.

He had buried the thought before, but now it was clawing its way out of the coffin and through the dirt and grime, and as it reached the surface realisation dawned on Punk.

Randy Orton was under his skin.

Denial was futile.

...


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for the continued support for this fic, it really drives me on to write more. Usually I struggle and end up having huge gaps between posting updates, but so far so good! I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it continues. I hope I haven't just jinxed myself lol. I'm also a perfectionist, and if I don't feel like something is right I will rewrite over and over until I like it, so that also causes delays too! Anyway, enough of my rambling, here is the next chapter, I hope you like it.**

**p.s. I'm totally loving Punk's new hair! I loved the slick back look too, but it was time for a change! :D**

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Two weeks had passed since Randy bailed out of Punk's hotel room when they had their honest and frank conversation, and in the subsequent days there had been no contact between the two men whatsoever.

If anything it appeared that Orton was putting distance between himself and Punk. Or that is how Punk had read it anyway. Punk couldn't be faulted for coming to that conclusion, whenever he had given Orton the slightest look the Viper would take off at warp speed. The man had practically become invisible.

Punk was unsure of how he felt about that. On one hand he was pissed off. He kept pondering whether he had said or done something wrong. He kept over analysing everything he had said during their last conversation.

His irritation kept bubbling to the surface and everyone backstage was well aware of Punk's temper as of late. He found himself not just wanting to talk to Orton, but needing too. If just to shut his mind up. But due to Orton's invisible man routine that was impossible.

On the flip side, Punk couldn't deny that distance between Randy and himself was probably the best solution. A healthy decision. At least for now.

After the realisation fell on him like a ton of bricks that he enjoyed his encounter with Randy a lot more than he anticipated, and more worrying was how close he came to wanting to engage in sexual activity again with Randy last time they interacted underlined the need for distance even more.

Punk felt rather at ease with his self declaration of wanting Randy intimately. Sure their encounter had been against his straight edge way of life and for that reason he would always be angry at himself, but he knew that if he forgot that particular fact that all that was left was the most intense feeling he had ever experienced. The pleasure that coursed through his veins and made his head swim was flat out amazing. Never before had he felt such excitement. Such arousal.

Punk wondered if it was because it was his first time with a man. A brief thought of having sexual relations with a different man was swept aside. He wasn't attracted to the male form. He never had been. He was a ladies man. Yet no female form was currently enticing him either. Only one body made his mouth water and his blood rush in a southerly direction.

Randy Orton's.

During his sleepless nights he had often found himself taking a walk down memory lane to his encounter with Randy. As the memories played out across his minds eye, he would get lost in them. The world slipped away and all that was there was the sounds, the feeling, the taste, the smell, the sights of that body that turned him on beyond belief.

Once he returned to reality he would find himself panting, drenched in sweat, with a tight fist wrapped around his erection and his cum in pools over his stomach. For the first few days it alarmed him, but he rationalised the situation and came to a quick conclusion. Why should he give a fuck if he was attracted to a man? It was his business, and no one else's.

It was an interesting development to say the very least. One that he was sure would never arise in his life. Especially in his thirty third year of life. Experimenting of that nature was what usually happens in your teens, not early thirties. But whenever Punk found himself in uncharted territory or if he was chucked in at the deep end he would just take it all in his stride.

Cool, calm and collected.

If he's attracted to Randy Orton then he's attracted to him.

No drama.

Punk had realised that denial was futile when those bricks crashed over his head two weeks back, and he wasn't going to go back into that river of denial that he had originally found himself languishing in.

No. He wasn't going to deny it at all. However, he wasn't going to take the initiative either. If Randy felt the same way then the ball was firmly in his court. He could either continue to play invisible Randy or he could man up and be upfront to Punk about his feelings.

Deal with it or move on to forget.

Randy's decision was his. Punk had no intention of influencing it one way or the other. Randy had to come to his decision in his own time. Punk just hoped it wouldn't take long. Patience was never his forte.

Knowing that Randy needed time to get a grip on the situation and add on top of that his own feelings that were incredibly new and raw was another reason of why distance was probably the best thing for them.

With distance there would be no confrontations.

With distance there would be no pressure.

With distance there would be no temptation.

...

Punk heard a bang, followed by a crash, followed by a smash. He was returning back to the locker room from catering to the racket that was currently attacking his eardrums.

Kofi and Truth rounded the corner and flagged down Punk. 'You don't want to go in there.' Kofi warned.

'Why? Little Jimmy in a bad mood?' Punk's sarcastic nature making its presence known.

'Little Jimmy is well behaved man!' Truth barked as he walked on chatting to Little Jimmy as he went, leaving Kofi and Punk alone.

'It's Orton.' Kofi clarified. 'Miz mentioned his wife and the next thing we all knew Miz was against the lockers practically shitting himself. Sheamus got Miz out of there and then Orton attacked a locker.'

'Right.' Punk replied, a hint of concern rushed through him, not that he would ever acknowledge it or admit to it.

'He started throwing shit all over the room so everyone just bailed.' Kofi finished his description of the recent events. 'The guys are hanging out back at catering, you coming?'

Punk hadn't paid attention to Kofi's latest sentence instead his mind was in that room with Randy. It wasn't until Kofi hit him on the arm that he became aware of Kofi's existence once more. Kingston repeated his last sentence once more.

'No, I've already been to catering. I think I'm going to go to the trainers, just to check up on my hip.' Punk lied. Kofi was aware that since the Chamber match a few weeks past that Punk's hip had been bothersome so the lie rolled easily off Punk's tongue.

Kofi nodded his head and departed leaving Punk in a conundrum. Did he enter the war zone or stay safely away from flying debris?

Punk shrugged his shoulders, of course he knew the answer to that. A war zone was home. He thrived on that. A little chaos was familiar. In fact mayhem and chaos pretty much summed up the entire six year relationship in which he had known Randy.

Punk showed no hesitance as he opened the door and walked straight inside. Over turned tables and chairs greeted him, all in all it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. No holes in the walls. Nothing was aflame. It was pretty tame really.

A slow methodical walk drew Punk further into the room. His gaze snapped toward his feet as glass crunched under his wrestling boots. Many of his colleagues luggage was thrown into every corner of the room and there in the middle of the cyclone stood the catalyst.

Demolishing inanimate objects seemed to be Orton's modus operandi Punk thought. Well except for that one instance where Punk's jaw was on the receiving end of the damage at Orton's hands. As Punk took a step closer the Viper uncoiled and the snakes eyes transfixed on him.

For a moment nothing moved. Nothing sounded. Four eyes collided and nothing else.

Punk broke away first, browsing around the room in a sudden fashion. 'Thought you'd redecorate huh?' Punk quipped. As soon as the words left his mouth he realised that probably wasn't the best way to calm Orton down. Sarcasm hadn't been all that successful in the past.

'Go away, Punk.' Randy flatly replied, however any threat was absent from his words.

'I'm quite happy where I'm stood thanks.' Punk replied as he tried to gauge Orton's demeanour. 'What led to the explosion?' Punk asked, obviously alluding to Randy's temper.

Orton's temper had certainly exploded. In fact a walking time bomb was quite an apt way to describe the man really.

'Nothing. Now fuck off!' Randy spoke again, his voice sounding more menacing this time.

Despite the appearance of a more menacing tone Punk never faltered or backtracked as he inched closer to his fellow superstar. 'So, it had nothing to do with Miz mentioning your wife then?'

Punk knew that would push Orton's buttons and hit the ignition switch on Orton's volatile temper, but there really wasn't another direction that he could travel. The road he was on only went one way and had one destination, and unfortunately for Punk he knew it was a destination he didn't like much.

Randy's eyes snapped back up to Punk's. A cold hard stare honed in on Punk. For the longest time Orton never moved. He never blinked. Punk began to wonder if he was in a trance, but just as he was about to speak Orton beat him to it.

'How do you know what happened? You weren't here.' Randy questioned as he tilted his head inquisitively in Punk's direction.

'Word got around in a hurry.' Punk answered as he picked up some of his colleagues belongings and returned them to the bench that was nearest to them as he was unsure of their original location.

'I can't stand that prick!' Randy barked, as his lips curled into a snarl.

'What Miz? No one can stand him. We've known this for a while now.' Punk smirked, as he thought back to all the confrontations he had with the awful one. 'I thought you were doing better with the divorce situation though?' Punk asked with trepidation, ready to receive the same fate as Miz.

'I was. I mean, I am.' Randy confirmed. He looked back to Punk his eyes straying down Punk's body momentarily before carrying on. 'I've just been distracted lately. I've had stuff on my mind and I haven't got much sleep.'

Punk nodded his understanding. No sleep equals angry Randy. Once his head processed that it couldn't help but put the spotlight on what had been Randy's distraction. What had been on his mind? Was it him? Alarmingly he hoped it was.

'I know the feeling.' Punk replied, noticing Orton's eyes light up for a split second before fading back to black. He wondered if Orton's thought process was the mirror image of his own.

Orton began to shake his head vigorously. 'You don't know what I'm feeling Punk.'

'No? Try me?' Determination was apparent in Punk's tone.

Randy burst out of his cage like a lion and went straight up to the WWE champion. 'You want to know what I'm feeling? Is that right?'

Punk lifted his chin, having to look up slightly to meet Randy face to face. He wasn't going to back down. 'Yeah, that's right. So stop being a douchebag and speak your mind!'

Whenever confronted Punk's default setting kicked in and an insult fired from his mouth.

Randy took a rough hold of Punk's shoulders and with all the force he could muster he forced Punk to run backwards, he travelled with him, his fingers digging into Punk's skin as they went. The journey came to an abrupt stop as Punk crashed into the metal lockers.

The back of Punk's head struck the steel, he winced as the blow rocked him and his vision distorted for a second. A hand suddenly came to his throat and began to squeeze.

A seething Viper was spitting venom and Punk was the recipient of the poison. Punk realised his earlier thought was indeed correct, he had travelled down that dangerous road and now he had reached the destination. The destination being on the receiving end of the full force of Randy's temper. The cyclone was picking up velocity once more and Punk was caught in the middle of nowhere and caught in its midst.

With no regret the cyclone unleashed its fury. The large hand around his throat tightened its grip and his oxygen began to fade away. He gasped for air, his face turning a terrifying shade of red as he croaked and gasped and spluttered for air, but he received no reprieve.

A single tear fell from the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek as the need for oxygen overwhelmed him. His legs turned to lead, his arms slipping away from Randy's as they gave up on trying to get Randy off of him.

Punk was slipping. He was fading. As he was about to lose consciousness he felt Randy grab the back of his head and with no hint of remorse the back of his head met the steel once more.

A croak of pain was barely audible as Punk went limp within the Vipers grasp and then all of a sudden the hand that was crushing his windpipe vanished. Air rushed back into his lungs as he dropped to his knees. Punk coughed and spluttered as he took deep breath after deep breath.

He managed to look up to see Orton towering over him, the cyclone seemed to have passed and was now merely a breeze. Grey eyes were wide with horror, taking in the destruction he had caused with his own hands. He then looked at those hands. The ones he almost choked the life out of Punk with. They began to tremble.

Punk tried to say Randy's name, but his voice wasn't co-operating with him just yet. As he gasped for much needed oxygen still, he reached out for Randy, but as soon as Orton saw the hand approach he took a step back.

He shook his head. His hands running over his face not believing his actions. He turned swiftly and left the destruction in his wake.

Punk collapsed back against the lockers he was previously driven into. Twice. The Second City Saint began to fume at Randy's actions. But underneath the hostility he was feeling toward the man at the current time, his initial instinct was to still reach out for him.

Punk shook his head ruefully. Forget Randy torturing him. He was torturing himself.

The need for distance was indeed needed, and it was confirmed emphatically. In fact Punk started to believe it needed to become a permanent fixture. Randy and himself really were a toxic combination. He was fuel to Orton's fire, and vice versa. Whenever they were together control quickly evaporated and all that was left was what surrounded Punk right then and there.

Destruction.

Punk entered the war zone. He went to war. He hadn't won. He hadn't lost.

But he was reminded of what he always knew.

War was never worth the sacrifice.

...

Punk lounged on his bed, his cell resting on his stomach as he replayed the events of the night over and over in his head. Despite Randy's actions that night it hadn't dampened Punk's attraction to him in the slightest, it was just joined by a severe case of anger, rage and annoyance directed at the Viper.

Beneath all the anger and violence displayed in that locker room that night, another element lingered and shone bright.

Passion.

Passion was always dangerous. Passion makes people crazy. Passion makes the world go round. Passion is what drives people on. Without passion what would we be?

Empty?

If there was one thing between Orton and himself it was passion. Criminal amounts of passion. And Punk knew that having that coupled with their volatile disposition could be cataclysmic.

So, despite the stubbornness of the passion they shared and the attraction Punk felt toward the Apex Predator Punk knew that what they had needed to end. He drew a metaphorical line in the sand.

After two weeks of diving into his emotions, which was paramount to torture in Punk's book, he realised it was all for nothing. He had been back and forth over the whole situation, but the answer was now crystal clear.

Distance was definitely the route that needed to be taken.

His cell beeped alerting him to a text and as soon as he saw it the passion swarmed over him and began to nip away at him all over again.

_Text received 2.29am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Sorry._

Punk stared at the screen of his iPhone, unsure of his next move. His mind was like a roller coaster. Just when he thought he had made a decision he goes round for another loop the loop and now there was a shadow cast over his earlier assertiveness of that distance was needed.

Punk couldn't make up his mind on whether to text back or to not. If he did what the hell would he say?

Minutes ticked on by and before he knew it his thumbs were typing out a reply.

_Text received 2.35am_

_from: CM Punk_

_For what? Being a giant douchebag?_

When in doubt resort to sarcasm or insults. Or in some cases both.

_Text received 2.36am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Yeah._

Punk immediately felt glad that Randy knew he was a douchebag. He still wasn't sure of how to move forward though. He was still incensed that Orton had practically killed him. Hardly something to find solace in.

_Text received 2.38am_

_from: CM Punk_

_You're a man of few words aren't you?_

Punk felt lost, he didn't know what to say, and he didn't know what to do. Which wasn't like Punk. Usually he was so sure of himself. It unsettled the Second City Saint.

_Text received 2.39am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Sometimes._

Punk let out an exasperated sigh. He was about to give up and turn his cell off and try to erase this day from his memory, but before he could his cell beeped again.

_Text received 2.41am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_I really am sorry Punk. Am I forgiven?_

Punk smiled slightly, Randy Orton was actually asking him for his forgiveness. Was he in another dimension? Punk shook his head before replying.

_Text received 2.43am_

_from: CM Punk_

_I guess so._

Memory erased? No, not really.

Memory forgiven? Probably.

For some odd reason Punk felt forgiveness was the best option. He never often forgave, but nothing about his relationship with Orton had any precedence. And if he didn't forgive Orton he would only exact revenge and the war would probably continue. Although, a healthy dose of revenge could still be in Orton's future, after all some retaliation was well deserved.

Nevertheless, forgiveness was a new avenue to consider and Punk wasn't sure where it would lead him, but he was willing to find out.

That line in the sand that he recently drew was instantly washed away by the incoming tide.

And that tide consisted of one thing.

Passion.

It resides in everyone, resting and waiting to strike and to eventually consume us. When it gets a hold of you you're helpless to its urges.

Passion controls everyone. It rules over everyone.

And Punk had no other choice, but to obey it.

...


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, I never thought I'd get over 50 reviews so I'm stunned, but also very thankful. YOU GUYS RULE! I had a scary moment this week, my laptop got a virus and I almost lost all my notes for the whole story and this whole chapter and the beginning of chapter 10, but thankfully the laptop is all fixed and Volatile is still rolling lol. PHEW!**

* * *

Raw was in full swing, and already well into the second hour and Randy's match loomed. In minutes he would be out in front of the raucous crowd. The nervous aura surrounding him however had nothing to do with performing in front of thousands in the arena and the millions watching around the world in their homes. No his trembling limbs, the sweaty palms and forehead boiled down to one thing.

Or should that be one person?

CM Punk.

Scheduled for Raw that night was a tag match between Wrestlemania opponents; Kane and Chris Jericho would team up to take on Randy Orton and the WWE champion CM Punk.

This match had to come at the worse possible time. Despite the apparent acceptance of his apology Punk hadn't been all that approachable in the last week. Randy couldn't blame Punk, he had lost his temper and lashed out at the first person to cross him. It just happened to be Punk, who was also a direct link to what had caused his explosion of anger too, so in many ways it was fitting that Punk was the one to feel its wrath.

Miz may have pissed Orton off originally, but the main cause of his temper was Punk. Punk hadn't done anything to warrant the blame, but Randy knew Punk was the cause. Randy himself also acknowledged and accepted a portion of the blame too.

Ever since their indiscretion after the Elimination Chamber ppv Randy had barely slept, his mind would never switch off. Every time he closed his eyes memories of Punk and his liaison would flash through his mind.

So, due to that and in Orton's twisted angry logic Punk had to take a shared portion of the blame for his own violent actions.

Really it all boiled down to the fact that he couldn't come to terms with the truth, and that truth was he had sex with a man. He had sex with Punk. And despite the knowledge of enjoying it, he couldn't comprehend why he did it or why every time he saw Punk he wanted history to repeat itself.

It was a notion that was hard to accept. The mere thought of being attracted to a man was one he was sure would never surface, but the energy he consumed trying to deny it was quickly fading. Randy was notorious for trying to deny the obvious, he was never one to admit defeat, but he was losing this fight and sometime soon he knew he'd be defeated.

But once defeated, he didn't know how to move forward.

One thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to apologise profusely to Punk about his actions from the previous week. Sure he had apologised through text, but he wanted to make amends face to face to let Punk know just how truly sorry he was. He needed Punk to understand how much he regretted his actions.

Punk had been incognito though. Apart from a brief ten minutes earlier in the day to discuss their upcoming tag match Randy hadn't seen Punk. He had no opportunities to get Punk alone. During the meeting Kane and Jericho and road agents were obviously there too. It was hardly a great time to bring up the topic.

So, there Randy stood currently in gorilla position. The tag match grew closer and closer and and finally Punk appeared on the scene. Punk hadn't spotted him and seeing as gorilla was relatively sparse with bodies he took the opportunity.

Randy took a cautious approach. He practically took on the form of a predator trying its damndest not to startle its prey as he moved slowly, silently toward the unsuspecting man. The initial reaction of Punk would be a mystery. As far as Randy was concerned Punk could end up being civil, or he could be angry and insult him, or he could just GTS him on the spot. That last option he hoped wouldn't come to fruition.

A light tap to the shoulder and Punk looked over that same shoulder to see Randy stood there looking incredibly uncomfortable and nervous.

'Hey.' Randy greeted him.

'Hi.' Punk returned the greeting casually as he turned to face the Viper.

'I just wanted to apologise again, this time to your face. I was way out of line and I'm just...' Randy spoke quietly before being cut off.

'You're just a complete jackass, Randy.' Punk finished the sentence for him, despite that not being what Randy was going to say.

'Yeah, I'm a jackass.' Randy accepted, as he nodded. He couldn't quite gauge whether Punk was angry or being his usual sarcastic insulting self.

'I'm glad you agree.' Punk smirked as he licked his lips, his tongue darting out and flicking over his lip ring.

Randy couldn't help but get caught up in the motion, his mind flashing back to how good that tongue felt against his own. He shook those thoughts away and tried to focus. 'I guess that violence keeps popping up in our...friendship.'

Randy had paused before that last word, not actually knowing whether Punk and he were friends. And if they had ever reached friends status he was sure that he had wrecked that with his recent outburst.

Punk nodded his head and smiled a little. Violence was certainly a common occurrence during their acquaintance. If anything it was at the forefront.

'Yeah, we've both got our hits in huh?' Randy continued as he smiled, the nerves receding slightly as he engaged further into conversing with Punk. 'After all, you did punch me.'

Punk guffawed at that. 'Earth to retard you hit me first! That was retaliation. You deserved it.'

'True.' Randy concurred. His brain suddenly realised that revenge would most likely be heading his way for his latest violent out pouring. 'So Punk, when can I expect retaliation for last week?' Randy asked directly.

'Who said that I'd retaliate?' Punk questioned.

'No one. I just expect it.' Randy answered.

A huge explosion sounded marking the entrance of Kane into the arena, and both men walked closer to the stairs that let up toward the curtain.

'Maybe, I won't retaliate.' Punk said, not just to Orton, but also to himself.

Retaliation wouldn't get him off this roller coaster ride. He already knew what would get him off the roller coaster and that was distance. If Randy and himself spent time apart it would do them both some good, and whatever lingered between them would be left to fizzle out and expire...or that's what he told himself. He knew that scenario was unlikely. He already knew that he was a slave to his own passionate desires, but that still didn't stop the hard headed man from trying to ignore it.

A weak and worthless act of defiance.

'That isn't like you.' Randy replied.

'I seem to find myself doing a lot of things that isn't like me when it comes to you.' Punk looks around and their eyes lock together.

The temptation was overwhelming. Just with one step and lips could be pressed to lips again and the electricity and passion would be rekindled.

But Randy put a halt to any temptations as he replied. 'And that's a bad thing?'

It was a rhetorical question. Orton already knew the answer. Punk had found himself breaking a straight edge law that he took such pride in obeying because of him. Or because of them. And whatever it was that was between them. He knew Punk regretted that, and that he always would.

Despite it being rhetorical Punk answered anyway. 'Yeah, it's a bad thing. We need distance. So, after this match I think we should just stay away from each other, okay?'

'Yeah, I agree.' Randy responded, despite his head screaming at him that he didn't agree whatsoever.

The war between the two superstars may have been vanquished, but inside their own individual minds they were still waging war with themselves.

Voices blared from the sound system and with one final gaze at Punk, Randy stepped into the arena wondering if Punk and he had just closed the curtain on whatever it was that lingered between them.

...

Adrenaline coursed through their veins as the rapturous applause and deafening screaming still buzzed in their ears despite being back in the confines of the locker room.

Their match had been terrific, with Punk and Orton going over when they hit a GTS and a RKO simultaneously. The fans erupted for the finish and the match added more intrigue to their respective matches as Wrestlemania drew closer.

Punk sat on a bench still hyped up from the match. Sweat was pouring down his chest, adding a sheen to his torso that was currently trapping Randy in a trance.

Orton was in the far corner and even though Punk's words before the match still ran through his mind he couldn't help the urge to walk over there and steal Punk's breath away with a ferocious kiss.

The one restraint on Orton's actions was the other superstars that were still in the room. He was thankful for their presence, with them in the room he could control himself. Control had never been Randy's strong point. His past was littered with instances of his self control abandoning him, the most recent being almost choking CM Punk out.

Now it was the reverse. He had no intention of wanting to hurt Punk, instead he wanted to kiss Punk with all the passion he could muster. Randy knew that was the wrong thing to do. He knew it. Punk knew it.

But unluckily for Randy his control was frail and as the last remaining superstar exited the room he found himself back on his feet and walking with a purpose as he headed straight for Punk.

A tight grasp on his shoulder spun Punk around and before he could react Randy's lips found his. It was deja vu all over again. Punk knew where this could lead and his head was screaming at him to stop it, but his body was screaming the exact opposite. His hands found their way onto the back of Randy's head and back and he pulled the Viper closer to his body.

Heaving chests met as a tongue swept around another and quiet moans and gasps came from both men. For Punk the kiss ended as it started; abruptly.

A harsh shove sent him back down onto the bench. Punk's confusion escalated as he wiped his mouth with the back of his taped up hand.

Randy stood with his head in his hands. 'Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.' He mumbled over and over.

Punk stood back up unsure of what to do. He didn't have to wait long for Orton to respond however. The Apex Predator stared at him in disbelief before walking back over to his luggage. He gathered all his belongings together and hurriedly left the locker room.

Punk made no effort to stop him. Punk reminisced about his own freak out when Orton and he had reached their climatic high he had quickly bolted out the door like Orton had just done. From his own experience he knew exactly what Randy was feeling. He knew Orton was struggling with being attracted to a man, and Punk didn't hold it against him.

Punk hoped Orton would deal with it, and deal with it soon though because he couldn't handle much more of these stop starts between Orton and himself. Punk didn't even truly know what he wanted to happen. He was adamant after last weeks attack from Randy that was the end, but mere hours later when the Viper was texting him he went back on his own self promise and forgave Randy.

When the following morning arrived he had changed his mind once more and realised that he needed to stay away from Orton and vice versa. He resisted the passion that gnawed at him to obey his desires, and he stood strong with his decision earlier that day when he told Randy that they needed space, but once Randy's lips were back on his all of those decisions flew out the window and got reversed.

Clearly both men were carbon copies of the other. Neither one of them could make up their minds on what is is that they want. In fact their minds were a complete mess and a jumble of thoughts and they couldn't even distinguish one from the hundreds that ran around inside their heads.

What Punk did know was something he didn't want and that was Orton's dramatic mood swings to make him feel that he had no control over the situation. He understood Randy's internal debate, he had been through it himself and he even felt rare sympathy for the guy, but he was getting sick and tired of Randy bailing on him. One minute he was all over him, and the next he was running out the door and leaving Punk spinning out of control.

Anything that happened between them was never in his control. Maybe he was being selfish in thinking that way, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could handle all of the swerves, twists and turns that came his way in which he had no sway over. He was essentially an innocent passenger along for the ride.

Despite Punk's determination to stay away from Orton and forget about his attraction to the man, it was becoming increasingly apparrent that he couldn't. Every time Randy showed interest, Punk was his willing partner.

That fact irritated Punk more than anything else. A man that prided himself on his self control was currently finding it in short supply.

His control was faltering.

His control was wavering.

His control wasn't in his own hands anymore.

It was in Orton's.

...

_Text received 12.32am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Sorry._

_Text received 12.55am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Punk?_

_Text received 1.11am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Punk, please talk to me!_

Punk let out an exasperated sigh as his iPhone buzzed for the third time in less than an hour. The Second City Saint was torn. He wanted to regain some semblance of control and the only way to do that was to ignore Randy and keep away from him. It was crystal clear that whenever Orton was with him he played by Orton's rules and not by his and that didn't sit well with Punk in the slightest. But as he gazed over the text messages he had received that night he yearned to reply.

Punk was tearing his hair out as he wished that Orton was in the room right now and they were recreating the magic that they found after their Elimination Chamber match. Not that he would ever reply with that even if he did choose to text the Viper back. Coming across as desperate was never Punk's style. Nor would he divulge the information to Orton or anyone for that matter about just how deeply his feelings ran for the Apex Predator.

_Text received 1.19am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Please Punk, I want to talk to you. I want to see you. Please talk!_

Punk rolled his eyes as he read the latest message, clearly Orton had no such qualms about sounding so desperate. Punk couldn't help but smirk at that at first, it was a boost to his ego. However, Punk soon questioned it, after all Orton seemed even more confused about their situation than him, so why was he all of a sudden being so forward?

Punk shook his head as he realised Orton was most likely drunk out of his skull. The last thing Punk wanted or needed was for a drunk Randy Orton to show up hammering on his hotel room door. He's had enough of that to last a lifetime in the last couple of months.

Punk wondered if he didn't text back what the likelihood would be of Randy showing up on his doorstep. Punk felt a sense of dread, he was screwed either way. Punk reached for his cell and scrambled his brain for a reply.

_Text received 1.23am_

_from: CM Punk_

_OK, I'll talk...STOP TEXTING ME!_

Punk hoped that would tell Orton without a shadow of doubt that the best thing to do was to stay away from him and not to show up at his hotel room that night.

_Text received 1.25am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_But I need to talk to you. I need to see you._

Punk gritted his teeth, his mind yelling at him to stay strong and be smart. Nothing good has come from his increased exposure to Orton.

_Text received 1.26am_

_from: CM Punk_

_I don't want to see you._

Punk was aware of how harsh his words sounded, but in reality there was no malice attached to them, because those words were made up of lies and deception.

_Text received 1.29am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_I miss you_

Punk felt a surge of emotion swell from deep within him, he tried to suppress it and deny it, and write it off as Orton being drunk off his ass, but in a far and dark corner of his mind their was a practically inaudible whisper saying how he hoped that was true.

Punk stood firm, he switched off his iPhone and discarded it on to the bedside cabinet. Punk was pleasantly surprised at how he kept his control and refused to cave in to the whisper in the back of his mind. Although he suspected that the whisper would grow louder and louder in time, and he would be met with sterner tests along the way.

Punk was under no illusion that he was deeply infatuated with Randy Orton. He wasn't a stupid man, he had known that for weeks. But he wasn't deluded either. Orton and his relationship, if it could even be called that, was a deathtrap.

Violence, anger, frustration, they were the main ingredients in their relationship and together they were a volatile combination. Yet instead of repelling them, it drove them closer and Punk knew that it was a dangerous situation that he had found himself stuck in.

A knock on the door surprised him, he got off the bed and walked over to the door. As soon as it opened a fraction, the door was pushed with a force on the opposing side making Punk stumble backwards.

For the second time that night Randy's lips locked onto his and instinctively his lips moulded to Randy's and his hands held onto Orton's hips as the rough kiss deepened.

That whisper that Punk was certain would grow louder was now screaming at him, almost mocking him as another part of his mind was yelling at him to put a stop to the kiss. His head was spinning, the recent return of his decisive nature had abandoned him already. He was caught up in the confusion and just as Randy's hands slid down over his stomach and began to open the button and zip on his jeans Punk pulled his lips away and shoved Orton away from his body.

Instantly Orton closed the gap and was back on his body, but he again sent Randy back with a shove to the chest. 'Randy, stop it!' Punk warned, breathless from their kiss.

'I don't want to stop it. I want you. You want me.' Randy replied, they both knew his words were the truth.

Randy wrapped his tattooed arms around Punk's waist as he kissed at Punk's stubbled jaw and neck. Punk was falling, his resolve was disintegrating before his very eyes. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and his breath hitched in his throat as he felt Randy's lips roam his skin. What Punk was even more aware of though was the hardening of his cock within the confines of his jeans.

Somewhere from deep within Punk managed to find a slither of determination as he created some separation between Randy and himself. 'Fuck!' He managed to say, as he sucked much needed air back into his lungs. 'I'm not doing this Randy.'

'Why?' Randy replied, disappointment was evident on his face, as was the glazed look in his eyes which was a clear indication to Punk that once again Randy had emptied the contents of his mini-bar.

'You're drunk Orton.' Punk stated.

'So? You want this as much as I do.'

Punk was knocked off centre with that declaration. Clearly while intoxicated Randy's honesty shone through. Punk acknowledged to himself that Randy was indeed correct, it was taking all of his will power not to give in and fall into bed with Randy.

'You're drunk.' Punk reiterated. 'You'll regret all this later.' Punk looked at Orton and solemnly mumbled to himself. 'You always do'

Randy walked over to Punk's bed and sat down on the edge, and silence fell over the room. Neither man was sure of how to continue. Eventually Randy piped up. 'Sorry.'

'What for?' Punk asked, still shocked to hear that word come from the cold Viper.

'Being here.' Orton answered.

'It's fine.' Punk replied, feeling in two minds about Orton showing up. He couldn't deny that he was pleased to see him, and he enjoyed the kiss more than he would ever admit, but he was also miffed at the fact that Orton ignored him telling to keep their distance from one another.

'It's not. When I'm near you everything changes. I tell myself that we should keep apart, but when I'm around you all I want to do is...' Randy looked up at Punk, hoping Punk understood what he wanted to say so he wouldn't have to verbalise it.

_'Kiss you' _Punk said to himself in his own head. That thought was followed by another. '_I know the feeling.'_

More minutes ticked on by, and Randy found the alcohol was catching up with him as he slumped over on to Punk's bed. The alcohol was lulling him to sleep, as his eyelids grew heavy.

'Randy, what are you doing?' Punk asked as moved from the couch to the bed.

'Sleeping.' Orton mumbled, as he shifted on the bed to get comfortable.

'Randy, come on!' Punk said, not wanting Randy to crash out on his bed. However, the quiet sound of breathing propelled Punk to the conclusion that it was too little to late and the Viper had reached his limit.

'You're a pain in the ass.' Punk smiled faintly as he shook his head.

It seemed the more he dug his heels in to try and gain distance and space from Randy, the more the man came into his life. And the more time he had in Orton's company the more he realised that saying he wanted distance was a waste of energy, because clearly Randy wouldn't allow it.

Truth be told, he wouldn't allow it either. His mind, his body, and maybe another part of him that resided in his chest had other ideas.

Sooner or later Randy or Punk would falter. They would give in. Failure really was inevitable.

Punk looked over at the sleeping man. He still couldn't fathom how they had gotten there. If anything Orton was closer to being an enemy than a friend for all those years past.

But now Punk was attracted to the man.

He would never have expected to be a attracted to a man. Life was a strange journey. It often threw curve balls, however, Punk could never have imagined this one would have arisen in his life.

Expect the unexpected.

Lesson learned.

...


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow, chapter ten and still going strong! I'm writing whenever I can to continue this story, I'm enjoying it so much. And I hope you all enjoy reading it. Go Punk for his 300 plus day title reign! BEST IN THE WORLD! :)**

* * *

Randy stirred as he exited his slumber. The sunshine was creeping through the blinds and Randy held a hand out to shield himself from the glare. He rolled over and away from the sun that greeted him for the arrival of a new day.

An eye crept open slowly, and Randy was instantly caught off guard as he spotted the WWE championship resting on a nearby chair. Still feeling groggy he closed his eyes again and tried to think back to yesterday. As far as he was aware he hadn't won the WWE title. That wasn't an easy thing to forget. Holding that prestigious championship was an honour. Randy knew who the real WWE title holder really was. It was CM Punk. So why the hell was Punk's championship in Randy's room.

The ice cold eyes blinked open trying to eradicate the fog of sleepiness that lingered over him. Randy whined as he sat up, the pounding in his head indicated he had once again had a productive night of throwing alcohol down his throat. He stared down his body, taking notice of the fact that he was still in his jeans and his tee-shirt.

He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands, then when he scanned the area he was in his confusion sky rocketed. A Rancid hoodie was draped over another chair and comic books were strewn over the table. Randy began to piece together the puzzle, and the final confirmation of where he was sunk in as his eyes found a Chicago Cubs cap on the floor.

'What the fuck?' Randy mumbled to himself.

Clearly he had awoke inside of CM Punk's hotel room. That was abundantly clear. How he got there and why he was there was the mystery. The last thing he remembered was being in his own hotel room with many beers sat beside him. His mind then travelled back further and then it hit him.

He had kissed Punk again!

Randy winced as he recalled the loss of control. He was the one to approach Punk. He was the one that initiated the kiss. He had forced himself on Punk. But if his memory served him correctly Punk hadn't reacted badly. In actuality Punk had returned the kiss and his hands worked their way onto Randy's body.

Randy was still in the dark as to how he had got into Punk's room though. He then remembered what happened next in the locker room. He had kissed Punk, but then he quickly ended it too. The abrupt finish to their kiss was followed by him fleeing the room.

Again Orton was playing with puzzles, only this time a sizeable piece was missing and no matter how hard he scoured his memory to fill in the blank he was coming up with no answers at all.

Suddenly he heard footsteps approaching and the hotel room door opened. Before Randy could contemplate his actions the door swung open and Punk stepped inside with what looked like coffees and food on a tray.

Punk hadn't instantly noticed he was awake and Randy was struck with the temptation to pretend to still be asleep. He wanted to bury himself in the sheets of Punk's bed, but before he could put the thought into action those green eyes that were becoming way too familiar fell upon him.

'Hey, you're awake.' Punk said, as he set the tray down on the table next to his comic books. 'How's the head?' Punk asked.

Randy then knew that Punk was somehow aware that he had gotten drunk. Had Punk turned up at his hotel room? No, that wouldn't make sense. If Punk turned up at his hotel room why the hell did he wake up in Punk's?

Randy found a puzzle piece and as he clicked it into place he knew that for some reason he had found his way to Punk's room that night, not the other way around.

'Here, I got you some aspirin.' Punk stated as he threw the small box onto the vacant space on the bed next to where Randy rested. 'I had to get them from the drug store across the street seeing as I didn't have any.'

_'Ah, right no aspirin for the straight edge guy.' _Randy thought to himself. He knew Punk took no drugs whatsoever. He always thought that part of Punk's straight edge code was strange. I mean aspirin wasn't an illegal drug, it was designed to help humans, yet Punk refused it anytime he was in pain.

Before the significant progression in their relationship Randy probably would've mocked the Straight Edge Superstar for it, but now he felt a weird sense of respect for his self restraint. Orton had seen first hand that Punk lived within the confines of the rules, and how he took pride in abiding by them. He also saw how ashamed and disappointed Punk looked when he had broken one of those cardinal rules.

Yes, respect had definitely been formed in his view of CM Punk.

Respect for himself however, that was at rock bottom.

Randy picked up the aspirin and popped a pill out of the foil and placed it on his tongue. He then realised he had no water to wash it down with. He glanced over at the beside cabinet, but there was no glass there. As he rotated back around a hand with a glass in its grasp was in front of his face. Tattooed fingers that read 'DRUG' confirmed who it was. Not that Randy expected it to be anyone else anyway.

He took the glass and swallowed the pill before guzzling the remaining water that was in the glass, the cold liquid soothing his sore throat. He placed it on the cabinet and then proceeded to clamber off the bed and find his shoes.

'Are you going?' Punk questioned.

'Err...yeah. I've got to get going. Smackdown tonight.' Randy confirmed as he rose to his feet, ignoring all the times he felt the urge to look over at Punk.

'Yeah, right.' Punk said, he understood that Randy needed to go and he watched the Viper rush over to the door. 'See ya.'

'Yeah.' Randy replied, as he left the room and the door shut behind him.

He felt like he was suffocating in that room, and he needed to escape fast. As he rushed toward the elevator he pondered what had happened between Punk and he in his intoxicated state last night. Randy's stomach dropped as realisation dawned on him that to complete that puzzle he'd have to have Punk do it for him.

...

Another Monday night had arrived. Another Raw was about to commence. Punk wrapped the tape around his wrist, he pulled it taught as he finished his pre-match rituals. He rummaged through his luggage, and finally pulled out his red marker pen. He X'ed his tape on each hand before returning his pen back to his travel bag.

The door opened and caught his eye as Randy Orton walked inside. Punk had no contact with the Apex Predator since his hasty retreat out of his hotel room the previous week, and so far that night Orton hadn't been sighted.

Until now.

A friendly acknowledgement of Orton's presence was a jut of the chin, but instead of receiving a similar greeting Punk got absolutely nothing. In fact he got blanked. Randy averted his gaze as soon as their eyes met, and the man took off for the furthest corner of the room and engaged in conversation with John Cena.

Punk was confused. Their lack of communication over the previous week could be attributed to the fact that Orton was working the Smackdown house show circuit and Punk was working Raw's, but the complete disregard of Punk's greeting was odd.

Punk accepted that they were on shaky ground after their kiss in the locker room after Raw had concluded last week. Not to mention Orton had turned up drunk again at his door in the middle of the night, so they were obviously not in a great place, but it could've been worse. In fact in recent memory it had been.

Really they were in no man's land.

Or that is how Punk felt anyway. He had no idea where he stood with Randy. He had no clue what was happening with them. He had told himself to put distance between Randy and himself, but his defiance was shattered as soon as Orton's soft lips were on his again. Then as Randy passed out on his his bed and after Orton's drunken declaration of wanting him, Punk thought that maybe they could move forward somehow with whatever it was between them.

But that now looked like that had hit the rocks too. Punk's confusion wouldn't abate as he watched Randy leave the locker room. With a split second decision, Punk followed and was hot on the Vipers heels.

As Randy rounded the corner Punk let him be aware of his presence. 'Randy, wait up.'

Randy turned around to see Punk jog up to him. He immediately turned his back to the Second City Saint and carried on walking.

Punk's brow furrowed as Randy's actions perplexed him. 'Hey! What's with the cold shoulder?' Punk persisted.

Randy kept silent as he increased the pace of his walk. From Punk's vantage point it certainly seemed that Orton was indeed giving him the cold shoulder.

'What the fuck Randy?' Punk bellowed as he gave up on following the Vipers trail. Punk shook his head, his anger rising from deep within. 'Fine! If you want to be a giant douche go right ahead!' Punk yelled, his rage increasing by the second.

Trying to understand what was going on in the Vipers head was a mission impossible for Punk. Hell it was impossible for Randy himself to comprehend what was going on in there.

Punk watched as Orton disappeared down the hallway. He shook his head as his taped fists shook with unparalled rage. The sporadic appearances of the ass-hole version of Randy was beginning to get tiresome for Punk, and if Randy wanted to provoke him, then he had accomplished that. Mission complete, because all Punk wanted to do in that moment was to GTS Randy to hell.

Although under the rage, curiosity lingered. Punk was curious to know what had caused Orton's cold shoulder. What did the Viper feel toward him? Was this thing between them even worth pursuing? Or should Punk just throw in the towel now?

One thing was for sure was the uncertainty was becoming way too much to handle.

And this new development, caused Punk to be the epitome of confusion.

...

Punk had mulled over Orton and his relationship non-stop that night. Even when he was in the ring live on Monday Night Raw he kept finding himself spacing out. That alone was cause for concern in Punk's mind.

He didn't want this thing between them to affect his job. Not now. Not when they were approaching the most vital night of the year; Wrestlemania.

So, Punk assumed that was why he had found himself stood at Randy's hotel room door. Punk couldn't help a slight smile as he realised this was like a role reversal. All the times Orton had shown up on his door step and now he was doing the very same.

Without anymore delay his knuckles met the wood and he braced himself for the door to be slammed back in his face. It wouldn't be all that surprising after the cold shoulder Orton had presented him with earlier that night.

As the shocked features of the Apex Predator greeted him Punk put on his game face as he glared at him. A clear indication that he wasn't there to play around. He meant business.

Punk walked straight inside, taking the opportunity Orton had afforded him when he hadn't slammed the door shut right away. The door closed and the men were safely hidden from any prying eyes.

Randy looked over at Punk silently questioning him as to why he was there. Punk shrugged at him. 'I thought it was about time I showed up at your hotel room.'

'Punk, I'm not in the mood for this.' Randy replied, his words laced with bad attitude.

'Really? I'm not in the mood for your crap, but I got it. So, how about you sit down, you shut up and you listen?' Punk instructed as he walked around with no real destination, he just felt that he needed to keep moving.

Punk heard Randy sigh, he hoped it was a sigh of defeat. 'Are you drunk?' Punk questioned.

'What? No.' Randy answered.

'Good. Maybe this time I can get some real answers.' Punk made his intentions clear. He was here to question Orton, and there was no way out of it.

'Answers? Answers to what?' Randy replied, knowing full well what line of questioning Punk would take.

'Don't play dumb, Randy. I know dumb is a way of life for you, but do me a favour and don't okay?' Punk couldn't help himself as the insult came from his mouth. He knew it probably wouldn't help his cause. After all, the last time he was around the rage induced Viper he almost got choked out. As the memory came back to him he absent mindedly ran his hand over his throat.

'Get on with it, Punk.' Randy responded, as he glared menacingly at Punk.

'What was with the cold shoulder routine, Randal?' Punk dove straight in getting to the point.

Randy shrugged as he walked over to the window.

Punk rolled his eyes. 'I want a little more than a shrug, Randal. Answer me.'

'Why was I in your room last week?' Randy asked, completely side stepping Punk's question.

'Huh?' Punk replied, confused with the tables being turned on him.

'When I woke up, I was in your room. How did I get there?' Randy clarified.

'You text me to apologise for kissing me. I told you to leave me alone. You then showed up at my room like a drunken idiot and then passed out on my bed.' Punk answered honestly.

'I slept in your bed?' Randy watched as Punk nodded his confirmation. 'Where were you?'

It all became clear to Punk. In Randy's drunken stupor he couldn't remember anything from that night, and Randy was concerned that Punk and he had shared a bed and that maybe they had found themselves engaging in something more than a kiss once again.

'I slept on the couch.' Punk answered truthfully. 'And no, it wasn't comfortable. And you're welcome.' Punk's sarcasm made its trademark appearance, never one to shy away from awkward and tense conversations.

'Right.' Randy said flatly, he was unsure of how to continue so he stayed silent.

'So, now that you know we didn't have sex, can you stop being a toolbox and answer my question?' Punk asked, as he looked over at Randy.

'I was just a little shocked to wake up in your room, that's all.' Randy answered.

'So instead of getting answers, you instead act like a doofus? Man, you really are a dumbass!' Punk smirked as he saw Randy's jaw clench in anger.

'Shut up, Punk.' Randy said through gritted teeth.

'Like that will ever happen, Randal.' Punk chuckled, as he completely ignored Orton's demand. 'So, you were shocked. Okay, answer me this, if something had happened between us what would you have done?'

Randy closed his eyes, he didn't want to have these questions fired at him. Those questions fueled the thoughts that he tried so hard to extinguish. He honestly wasn't sure of the answer, he had tried so hard to find it, but all he had found instead was mass amounts of confusion and bewilderment.

'Come on, Randal. What would you do? Would you ignore me? Would you punch me again? Would you try and choke me to death? I mean you've tried that before right?' Punk asked as he stepped closer and closer to Randy.

'Shut the fuck up, Punk!' Randy snarled back as he trembled with anger and struggled to contain his rage.

'No! I won't shut up!' Punk hissed as he stood directly in front of the Viper. He got right up into Randy's face as he stared into the depth of the ice that loomed in Randy's eyes. 'Do you know what you'd do, Randal? You don't do you? Do you want me to tell you?'

Randy closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to block out Punk's words. He wanted to block out the smell of Punk that was currently attacking his senses. He wanted to block out the soft breath of Punk's that hit his neck as the smaller man was in such close proximity.

'What you would've done was freak out. You would've freaked out because you realise that when you kiss me you enjoy it. You enjoy it so much and you can't handle it.' Punk words had softened. The hard edge that was originally there had vanished, but he didn't back down. He held firm in front of the Viper. 'Admit it.'

To admit it, he would have to accept it. That scared Randy more than he would ever like to let on.

'Admit it.' Punk demanded again.

Randy shook his head, as his eyes met Punk's. The most amazing green that he found himself getting lost in all those months back. History was threatening to repeat itself as all he wanted to do in that moment was to kiss the life out of Punk.

But he fought it and he shook his head once more banishing the temptation.

Punk rolled his eyes and turned away from him. Randy took comfort in the reprieve, but suddenly Punk was right back in his face.

'You might not be able to, but I can.' Punk said, his voice may have been full of determination, but he felt so unsure of himself in the inside.

His heart was thumping within its cage.

'I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it when you kissed me. What we did after the chamber...I enjoyed that too. And so did you.' Punk declared, his words coming out steady, despite his limbs shaking with nerves. 'Say it Randy.'

Randy closed his eyes, before opening them again to find himself dangerously lost in the gorgeous green pools. He could almost see his own reflection in Punk's pleading orbs. He wanted to say it, but his voice had abandoned him. He shook his head once more.

'Say it Randy!' Punk shouted. 'Please.' Which was no more than a whisper.

Randy screwed his face up and his eyes shut tightly, he reached blindly out for Punk's body. He gripped Punk's Ramones tee-shirt within his fists and pulled him flush against his body as he forced his lips onto Punk's. A surprised gasp escaped from Punk before he relaxed into the kiss. His lips melted against Randy's as his arms found their way around Randy's waist.

Randy finally pulled away breathless. 'I enjoyed it.' He panted before he kissed Punk's lips all over again. 'I enjoy it every single time.'

Suddenly he pushed Punk harshly away. It was becoming a disturbing pattern. Punk braced himself as he collided into a table, sending chairs hurtling over. He immediately regained his footing, and more importantly his composure.

'So, explain to me why every time we kiss you then back off? Tell me Randy!' Punk bellowed, he knew he was finally getting somewhere with the Apex Predator, he wasn't going to back down now.

'Because I can't deal with this!' Randy yelled.

'With what?!' Punk queried, digging his heels in. They had come this far now, they weren't turning back.

'With you...you're...' Randy stuttered.

'I'm what?!'

'You're a man! I shouldn't feel this way about a man!' Randy ranted, as he revealed his inner demons.

'What way?' Punk's focus immediately fell on the seemingly positive part of Randy's answer, and not the negative. What did 'this way' really mean?

'I shouldn't be...attracted to you.' Randy replied, his volume now that of barely above a whisper.

Punk nodded. He could understand that. But one thing he couldn't ascertain was that they were only in the situation they were in because of Orton. 'I get that. I get that it's weird. But what I don't get is if you feel like that, why were you the instigator in all of this?'

'What do you mean?' Randy asked, not boarding Punk's train of thought.

'You've been the instigator through all this, Randy. You kissed me. You dragged me into the bathroom after the Chamber. You turn up at my door in the middle of the night.' Punk clarified.

'I know. I know that all right? I've been all over the place since the divorce and I don't know I was just a mess.' Randy replied, the honesty clear in his voice. 'Plus, during most of those incidents I had a fair amount of alcohol in my system.'

Punk nodded his agreement, but then he realised their most notable incident was one where Orton was stone cold sober. 'And...the other incident?' Punk queried, alluding to their extra curricular activities after the Elimination Chamber event.

Randy shook his head, as he smiled faintly. 'That time, I was just really horny.'

Punk smirked, as Orton threw him the middle finger. 'And I guess I was a better option than having sex with yourself, huh?'

Randy couldn't help but hang his head in embarrassment. Sex with Punk had certainly topped having sex with himself that was for sure.

'So, all your dumbassery for these last two months or so is because you can't come to terms with the fact that I'm a man?' Randy nodded, and Punk instantly analysed that statement. 'Why does that matter? I've never understood why people over think attraction and boil it down to gender.'

Randy raised his eyebrows. 'So, you've been attracted to guys before?'

'Well, no.' Punk answered. The only man he had been in any way shape or form attracted too was stood less than three feet away.

'Oh, just me then?' Randy smirked, the cocky side of his personality making its return.

'Shut up.' Punk smiled. 'Bottom line is I'm in the same boat as you, but I'm not freaking out about it. Sure at first I was shocked, but I dealt with it. I mean, so what if I'm attracted to you and it just so happens that you have a penis.'

Randy glances down to his crotch. 'You noticed that, huh?' He smiles as he feels the heavy weight that he'd been carrying around with him since their first kiss actually begin to lighten.

'It didn't escape my notice.' Punk confirmed, returning the smile. 'Look, I don't get what is going on here. I don't really know how it happened really. But I do know that I'm attracted to you, and generally when I'm attracted to someone I try and see what happens between myself and her.' Punk said, before making an amendment. 'Or in this case him.'

Punk watched as Randy nodded along as he talked. Clearly they had reached some level of understanding. Punk felt a sense of relief at their frank conversation, after all it had taken them enough time to get to that point.

'So, I guess I'm willing to see what happens with us. Now the balls in your court.' Punk explains as he looked up into Randy's eyes again.

'So, we're not official? No expectations? We just see what happens?' Randy questioned.

'Right.' Punk confirms. 'If you're willing?'

Randy thought it over. 'I'm willing.' He answered, despite still having misgivings in a dark corner of his mind. Punk's lips curled into a smile. 'I've err...I ordered pizza before you arrived. Do you want to stay here for a bit?' Randy asked.

'Just to talk right?' Punk replied, not wanting to take things any further and to mess anything up after they had finally reached some level of acceptance.

'Just to talk. Well and to eat obviously.' Randy confirmed.

'Sounds good to me.' Punk smiled as he made his way over to Randy's bed and immediately fidgeted to get comfortable. He eventually stilled and ended up sitting Indian style as was often the case.

'Good.'

...


	11. Chapter 11

**I was hoping to have this posted sooner, but I wasn't happy with it until now! So, sorry for the wait. Thank you for the continued support and enjoy :)**

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Randy cursed and launched a glass with a mighty force across the room and watched it shatter as it collided with the wall. His fist were balled up, his shoulders hunched, his body shaking and he was ready to inflict damage.

Punk sat on the bench that Randy was stood in front of watching as the storm increased in ferocity. The thunder rumbled and the lightning struck around him as expletives bellowed from the Vipers lips.

Punk felt a heavy case of impending doom. He couldn't help the flashbacks to the last time he had been witness to the Vipers rage. That storm resulted in him almost being choked to death. He sat and winced as more objects hurtled around the room. Luckily for the rest of the WWE roster they were none the wiser to Orton's violent display.

Raw was half way through its two hours and the roster was gathered at gorilla position watching the show unfold. That was where Punk was ten minutes prior. Randy meanwhile, was in the ring.

During the course of his match against Alberto Del Rio, Randy had legitimately thought he was hurt. This time of the year was the worse time to pick up an type of injury. It was Wrestlemania season and the big day was approaching fast.

So, when Del Rio dropped Randy carelessly onto his shoulder and jolts of pain ran through his body, Orton instantly thought the worse. That scenario being he had once again injured his shoulder.

Randy's shoulders were precarious to say the very least. He suffered from hypermobility which meant that his shoulders can easily dislocate, and Randy had been through that particular pain one time to many.

Luckily the pain quickly subsided and Randy realised he was fine, but Randy's initial worry turned into anger as he realised how careless Del Rio had been. Enraged Randy made sure that Alberto knew he was pissed off by throwing some intensely stiff clotheslines and punches that connected with a lot of force.

Punk who was watching the bout intently had read the situation as soon as Randy had landed on his shoulder. The way Randy immediately curled into a ball and clutched his shoulder told Punk all he needed to know. His stomach dropped at the thought of Randy missing Mania and being on the shelf for an undetermined amount of time.

As the match progressed Punk felt a sense of relief as Randy still seemed mobile. He then became distinctly aware of the knowledge that he had been worried for the Viper. A quick smile swept over his face at how drastically things had changed between them over the last few months.

Unfortunately another thing Punk noticed as the match progressed was the fire in the Vipers eyes burning bright. The usual icy glare was now red with rage and Punk knew that Randy's temper had been unleashed from its binds.

Once the count-out finish happened; with Kane's pyro distracting Randy from the ring causing him to take the loss, Orton made it backstage in a hurry. He bypassed the road agents and the accumulated roster and headed straight for the locker room.

Punk watched Randy disappear down the hallway before deciding to chase the oncoming storm. As Punk got to his feet and followed in Randy's footsteps Alberto appeared. Punk narrowed his eyes as he neared him, and as he passed he made sure to barge into him as hard as he could with his shoulder. The Mexican aristocrat fell backward colliding into his lap dog Ricardo Rodriguez. Punk made no apology, nor did he make eye contact as he strolled down the corridor toward the locker room.

And toward the eye of the storm.

Ever since he arrived in the room Randy had been swearing and throwing things, Punk initially tried to calm Randy down by insisting no damage was done and accidents happen, but all that caused was more brutality to be unleashed on inanimate objects.

It had been over ten minutes now that Punk had sat and watched the venom spit from the Viper, and the rage hadn't quelled by even a fraction. Punk looked at the time and realised his segment with Jericho was coming up. He had to leave and he wondered what state the locker room would be in by the time he got back. What he was more concerned with however, was what state Randy would be in by the time he got back.

Punk stood up and just as Randy pulled back to launch someone's luggage across the room Punk snatched it from his grasp and dropped it to the ground. Randy spun around and glared at him. He was seething.

Punk didn't retreat as he looked the Viper right in the eye. Instead he moved in closer and suddenly his lips locked onto Randy's. His hand curled around Orton's neck, his fingers trailing delicately over the soft skin. A quiet moan escaped the Apex Predator as the rage instantly filtered away as he became ingratiated with the kiss that Punk snuck upon him.

Randy hands found their way onto Punk's hips and he pulled Punk tighter to his body. His tongue swirled around Punk's as their kiss deepened.

Breathless Punk pulled away with a trademark smirk on his face. His tongue pushed at his lip ring before running over his bottom lip. 'If I knew that was all it took to shut you up I would've done that a lot sooner.'

Randy smiled faintly as the anger he felt had completely vanished. He looked back at Punk who turned from him and made his way to the door. 'Where are you going?' Randy asked, forgetting that Raw was still broadcasting live.

'The WWE champion is up next.' Punk replied as he opened the door and left Randy alone. He quickly reappeared though as his head peered around the door. 'Try not to break anything else while I'm gone.'

A smirk was followed by a wink and Randy couldn't help but laugh. Punk disappeared this time for good as he prepared for his confrontation with Jericho.

The red mist had evaporated and Randy now took in his surroundings. Debris and objects were all over the place and Randy shook his head at his own behaviour. He started to pick up items and shards of glass and made the place look a little more respectable. Although how respectable could a locker room that contained over forty mens belongings dumped all over the place really be?

He made his way over to the television that was installed in the room and turned it on ready to watch Punk's segment. He took a seat on the bench that Punk had vacated just minutes before and he contemplated how Punk managed to calm him down with an act that was so simple.

Just one kiss managed to extinguish the fire in his gut and he revelled in the feeling of having Punk's lips on his. He contemplated that maybe his feelings for Punk were starting to increase and he was falling hard for the man that he hated once upon a time.

It had been a week since their last kiss, and their subsequent talk that resulted in them laying all their cards on the table. Since that night they had barely seen one another. Randy had taped Smackdown and Punk had media appearances and fan signings. Tonight was their first night they had seen each other. During their time apart text messages had been sent, nothing much was said other than catching up on the days events, but importantly the communication hadn't lapsed and once they were back in each others company prior to Raw they had talked freely with no tension.

Which was a rarity for them.

The conversation hadn't been about their relationship, it consisted of mundane things like how their week had been, but during that conversation both men felt like they were dancing around the issue, because since they were finally in each others company again all both men wanted to do was kiss the other with all the pent up passion they could muster.

Randy's attention was diverted from his thoughts as the noise of static filled his ears signalling the arrival of CM Punk into the arena. A genuine smile played out over Randy's features as Punk yelled 'It's clobberin' time!' like he always did.

The rage and fury he felt toward Del Rio had vanished completely, and it was replaced with hunger and passion for the man that the ice cold eyes of the Viper watched intently on the TV screen.

...

Punk's green eyes were more green than usual. The green pools were glaring and they were glaring at two people directly in his eye line on the dance floor.

After Raw some of the roster decided to head out to a local club. It was a usual haunt in the city they were in. An hour had quickly disappeared and that was when Punk noticed her. A blonde woman with her tits falling out of her top and a skirt so high it could be considered a belt was all over Randy Orton.

Punk in no way would lay claim to the man, but to say he was attacked by the green eyed monster would hit the nail square on the head. The green in his eyes became more vibrant as he was consumed with envy.

He wasn't sure where it had migrated from, but he felt it nonetheless. He saw her whispering something in Randy's ear and it was followed by a smile from the Viper. That made Punk even madder.

Why was Randy even engaging in conversation with her?

Punk gripped onto his glass of pepsi even tighter, the glass practically shaking under the force mere moments away from shattering in The Straight Edge Superstars grip if he wasn't careful.

The woman took hold of Randy's beer and set it down on top of the bar. She linked her fingers with Randy's and led him onto the dance floor. For a moment they were eclipsed by the crowd, bodies were moving and swaying and getting in the way.

Punk briefly thought that may be a blessing. After all, what he can't see can't infuriate him further. But the not knowing was torture and he silently begged for people to move the fuck out of the way and when they finally did his anger swelled.

The blonde was now plastering herself all over Randy, grinding against his body, pushing her ample bosom against his body. Her hands wrapped firmly around the Apex Predators frame as they manoeuvred their way south before both palms took a generous squeeze of Randy's butt.

A smirk was plastered over Randy's face, clearly he was revelling in the attention and that just infuriated Punk all the more. The woman knew she was getting somewhere and began to lick and nibble at Randy's ear lobe as Punk presumed she was whispering filth into Randy's ear.

Whatever it was Randy seemed to appreciate it as he now locked his strong arms around her waist and pulled her even tighter against his body as they swayed their hips in unison. They were now grinding fiercely against one another and Punk's jealousy soared. It wasn't that he wanted to be in her position, it was the simple fact that Randy seemed to be oblivious to the way he would feel seeing their display.

Punk was consumed further with jealousy as the female turned around and began to rub her ass against Randy's crotch. That infuriated Punk enough, but when Randy's hands latched onto her hips he was at the point of no return.

He didn't know where Randy's and his mutual attraction was headed, but after their kiss mere hours before it seemed that whatever it was between them they were going to explore.

It truly seemed like that was on the cards. Evidently the cards had been misinterpreted however, as that house of cards came tumbling down around Punk. That was the thing with the future it's really to fragile to ever truly predict.

The female was now face to face with the Apex Predator once again. She was running her hand over Randy's thick thigh travelling dangerously higher and higher. Punk reached his limit then.

He tore his gaze away and stood up from his seat, questioning glances from Kofi, Sheamus, AJ and Layla were ignored and he barged his way through the masses of people on the dance floor and headed for the exit.

As was always the case with Randy Orton, Punk felt like they had taken one step forward and two steps back.

...

Punk had barely got through his door before a gentle knock alerted him to a visitor. He wished to be alone, and he couldn't help but feel immediate hatred toward the person on the other side of the wooden door.

He reluctantly answered the door anyway and on the opposite side stood waiting for him was none other than Randy Orton.

'Hey, why did you leave so suddenly?' Randy asked.

The question just invigorated Punk's rage. Was Orton really that dumb? Did he really think Punk would be amused watching him and some whore practically dry hump each other in public? Punk's need for isolation increased and he decided to make it abundantly clear that Randy's company wasn't welcome.

'I got bored.' Punk replied as he stood in the doorway blocking any chance of entry for the Viper.

'You could of said goodbye.' Randy said. He could sense that Punk was agitated, but was unaware as to the reason. Although he had a slight hunch.

'You looked pretty busy from where I was standing.' Punk snapped, unable to keep a lid on his frustration.

Randy's hunch seemed to be true. Punk's sudden disappearing act was due to his actions which was practically confirmed by that last statement. Or at least he thought it was. 'Punk...'

'Why are you here?' Punk interrupted.

'Because you're here.' Randy answered, as he smiled faintly.

The smile was not returned in the slightest. In fact it was met with a scowl. 'You know what Randal, I've had enough of this.' Punk was steamed, his anger increasing by the second and he wasn't willing to listen to anything or anyone at that precise moment and he took a step back and slammed the door.

A hand blocked the door from shutting fully and Punk gritted his teeth trying desperately to keep a lock on his temper.

Randy forced the door back open and he made it across the threshold and into the room. 'This? What do you mean by 'this'?' He queried.

Punk narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing. 'You! I've had enough of you. I never know what to expect from you. Or what you want. Or what you're feeling. It felt like we cleared the air and we sorted everything out, but the next thing I know you're all over some bimbo!'

'I wasn't all over her!' Randy argued, despite knowing it was the truth and he should of put a stop to it a lot sooner than he did.

Once he had scoured the club and realised Punk was missing he had ditched the woman; who he pretty much had to peel off of himself, and made his way over to the group that Punk was sat with last time Randy had seen him. Once informed of Punk's whereabouts he was hot on Punk's trail.

Punk scoffed at Randy's lie. 'Right, whatever. I guess you can't keep the little Viper in your pants can you?' Punk spat out.

'Punk, come on.' Randy tried to interject, but he was quickly silenced by the next verbal tirade.

'It must be a huge relief to know that Randal Orton can still get the girls, huh?' Punk shook his head bitterly. 'It sure didn't take you long to go back to tits and pussy did it?' Punk yelled never faltering with his scathing retorts.

Randy recoiled slightly from the fuming man. He had fucked up and he knew it. He blatantly disregarded Punk's feelings and whatever sort of relationship that was brewing between them. His regret was incomparable. He knew he was testing Punk's limits, but he he couldn't stop himself. Something had driven him toward his actions.

'Punk...' He began once more.

'Save it.' Punk snapped. 'I don't want to hear it.'

Randy's fragile temper was rising now as Punk again cut him off. He wanted to explain, yet he was being given no opportunity. 'For fucksake, Punk!' He bellowed, finally sending Punk into silence, which was no easy feat. 'This isn't easy for me you know!'

Punk shook his head in disbelief. 'Oh, right and it's just a walk in the park for me!' Punk yelled back at Orton as the volume level increased. Punk averted his gaze, no longer wanting to look at Randy. 'Just go.' He spoke quietly.

Randy sighed, he didn't want to leave it like this. 'Punk...'

'Get out.' Punk repeated, albeit more forcefully.

Randy still didn't budge. He wanted to clear the air. To admit to his mistake. Admit to Punk that the cause of his actions were due to him struggling with his own inner turmoil over the depth of his attraction to a man. He knew that was the catalyst for his actions. He had from the moment the woman approached him.

Punk heard no movement. He heard no door close. So, he looked back up to see the Viper watching him with almost apologetic and remorseful eyes. Punk ignored them and stomped over to the door and swung it open, a clear statement that he wanted Randy to leave.

Still Randy didn't move, his feet staying rooted to the spot. He watched Punk take a step closer before the bomb ticked down and the explosion occurred.

'Get out!' Punk yelled as a harsh shove sent Randy toward the open door. 'Get the fuck out!' Another shove.

Randy surrendered and gave up on the fight as he walked out of the room without anymore force from Punk.

As soon as he was in the hallway the door slammed shut behind him.

...


	12. Chapter 12

Randy was full of regret. He was full of remorse. He knew he had made a stupid mistake and that he was an idiot and he knew his reasons for it, but that didn't mend the shattered pieces of Punk and his relationship.

The blonde bimbo; as Punk so politely named her, offered herself to him on a plate, and he felt the grip of temptation over take him. Not because she was the woman of his dreams, or because her beauty turned him on. The temptation had lured him for one simple reason.

CM Punk.

He was tempted by her because he hoped cavorting with a complete stranger who threw herself at him would somehow eradicate the depth of lust he felt for Punk. A man.

It hadn't in the slightest. The lust was unwavering, and as soon as he noticed Punk had performed some magic and vanished into thin air all the foundations of Randy's thoughts were made up of Punk.

The vast majority of his brain kept on screaming at him to bury his feelings, but somewhere in its core a voice lingered and despite being in the minority that voice was always the loudest. It spurred him on, that is how he found himself following Punk back to his hotel room.

But what happened then Randy wished he could erase. Despite never voicing or declaring their feelings for one another Punk's mood emphatically stated that he was jealous, and people don't get jealous if there aren't very real and deep emotions attached.

In the days that had passed Randy had given Punk space in hope that the Straight Edge Superstar would've calmed down enough for a grovelling apology the next time they were alone together. A sincere apology was certainly on Randy's agenda anyway.

The turbulent nature of their relationship had caused both men to go back on the words that they had declared to themselves numerous times.

The turbulence had made their defiance burn brighter. It made their attempts to ignore their feelings even stronger.

Yet the next time they were together all those feelings were quickly reversed. Both men were lost and confused, while not really knowing what they wanted out of their mutual attraction.

They were in uncharted territory.

Punk's words were ingrained in Randy's mind. He screamed and yelled for him to leave, and once he gave in and retreated from the Second City Saints hotel room he wondered if they had just written the final chapter in their story.

Contemplation followed in the days after.

Thoughts of dropping whatever it was between them became prevalent. But the louder more frequent thought was that Randy needed to repent. He needed to tell Punk he was sorry.

Deep down Randy knew he didn't want to let go of what was between them. He didn't want to let go of Punk. He wasn't even sure of what could be in their future if they pursued their attraction, but as of right now he wasn't willing to give up and forget about it.

So, once he found himself at the cross roads he chose his direction and this time he was going to stay true to the path he had chosen. All doubts and worries he would try and fight. From now on he was going to listen to his true heartfelt desires.

...

Randy was annoyed.

He had been waiting and waiting for his opportune moment to take Punk aside and speak honestly about his feelings; which was never the easiest task for him to accomplish. His nerves had been rattling all day and as he sat in the crowded locker room at Raw he wished for every other man in that room to be sucked into a black hole so he could finally have Punk to himself.

He'd attempted to find Punk at the hotel, but he had come up with little information as to Punk's whereabouts. He tried to accost him earlier in catering, but Punk had surrounded himself with Kofi, Truth and Ryder. At that moment in time Orton had found his patience shrinking and the temptation to RKO all three men was overwhelming. Somehow he managed to reign in his violent tendencies.

Now however, he wished with all his might that he could have five minutes alone with the Chicago native. His wish would still go ungranted. No magic lamp with a genie inside would come to his aid as he watched Punk intently from the opposite side of the vast room. Punk was either oblivious to his ever watchful stare, or he was avoiding it.

Punk's recent silence toward him actually spoke volumes. Punk was rarely quiet. If you were unlucky enough to be on his most hated list he'd normally make sure you were aware of it. His scathing retorts and insults would be attacking you often. He would find a way for his barbs to hit you where it hurt most, but so far Randy had received no such treatment.

He hoped that meant something.

Punk finally moved from his location and headed for the door to the locker room and Randy sensed this could be his opportunity that he had longed for all week. He got to his feet and rushed after the Straight Edge Superstar.

Randy realised that his fellow superstars probably raised their eyebrows at him basically running after the WWE champion, but he currently didn't give a flying fuck. He saw Punk at the end of the corridor make a right turn and Randy picked up his pace to close the distance.

As the gap between the men closed, he could feel his heart begin to thump in his chest rattling the bones of his ribcage viciously. He was just a step behind now and without warning Punk came to halt directly in front of him. Randy narrowly avoiding bumping into him at the sudden loss of speed.

That would hardly be the ideal start to the conversation.

Without turning to look at him Punk hung his head in vexation, he knew who was following him. 'What do you want, Randal?'

'I need to explain.' Randy replied, hoping that Punk's hostility would melt and he'd be granted the opportunity to explain his recent actions.

He was to be flatly denied. 'Get stuffed. I've heard enough of your bullshit to last a lifetime.' Punk hissed as he still had his back turned toward the Viper. 'So, do me a favour and stay away from me.'

Punk took off after that, leaving Randy behind momentarily. But Randy's newfound resolve made his legs start moving again and he chased Punk down. He grabbed him by the arm and spun him around to face him. Immediately Punk shrugged his arm free and his eyes narrowed menacingly at him. 'Please, just let me say my piece?'

Punk scoffed. 'I know you've always been a little dense, but get this through your thick skull Randal, I want nothing more to do with you.' Punk snarled, his anger was clearly the dominant emotion running through him still. But really all that was doing was masking the hurt that he felt deep down inside. Punk was never one to show that emotion to the world, he bottled it up and squashed it instead.

'Punk...' Randy began before his voice was overtaken by Punk's.

'No! Leave me the fuck alone!' Punk yelled as he turned and walked away from him.

'Punk, where are you going?' Randy yelled at the retreating man.

'Away from you doofus!' Punk called back as he created more distance between them.

Instantly Randy was on his trail, and they hadn't travelled far before Punk spun around to glare at him. Punk was angry and aggravated and Randy realised he was probably causing more damage right now than repairing what was already inflicted.

Punk shook his head bitterly at The Apex Predator. 'Randal, this whole storming off thing works a hell of a lot better if you don't follow, moron.'

Randy admitted defeat as he watched Punk walk away from him and disappear down an adjacent corridor. But Randy hadn't thrown in the towel permanently. He was determined to make amends.

This was only round one, and he was already preparing for round two.

...

Randy had found himself loitering outside Punk's hotel room for nearly fifteen minutes. He was going over the words that he wanted to say time and time again. He wondered whether there was actually any point in rehearsing, if it went anything like it did earlier that night at the arena he would barely get a word in edgeways and Punk would storm off.

Although seeing as how he was going to Punk's room the more likely scenario would be Punk kicking him out. If that did become reality that would be twice in seven days that he would be given his marching orders from the Straight Edge Superstar.

Randy's nerves were running rampant and he ran his sweaty palms over his jeans and knocked on the door. He braced himself as he heard footsteps approach the door.

As the door swung open Randy received the welcome he anticipated; a glare, followed by a 'fuck off', and the door slammed in his face.

Before Punk could close the door fully however, Randy stuck his foot in the way and forced it back open. Randy could see Punk's jaw clench shut and his hands move to his hips in annoyance.

Clearly he wasn't welcome. That wasn't a shock to the Viper, but he hoped Punk would at least give him a shot at explaining.

'Just me give me a minute, please?' Randy asked, as he stood in the door way on high alert readying himself for the door to be slammed again.

'I don't have a minute to waste on you.' Punk replied coldly.

That sharp reply actually made Randy wince. He knew Punk never held back with his words, and he didn't just wince because it hurt him. He winced because it became evident just how much he had hurt Punk.

'Punk, let me explain?' Randy pleaded again, he wanted Punk to let him in of his own accord, but he quickly came to the conclusion that if he had to he would barge in and refuse to leave.

There would be no backing down this time.

'I'm not in the mood for this, Randal.' Punk stated, as he avoided eye contact while keeping a firm grip on the door as if preparing to slam it at any moment.

'You won't let me in?' Randy asked, and Punk just scoffed and shook his head. 'Fine.' Randy continued, he walked straight into the room, pushed Punk away from the door and instead he slammed the door making sure he was on the right side.

'Get the fuck out, Randal!' Punk yelled as he marched up to him and glared.

'Shut the fuck up and listen!' Randy yelled back. 'I know I was an idiot okay? I do.'

'Good! I'm glad you're aware of your idiocy. Now go fuck yourself!' Punk barked, as his eyes were throwing many daggers in Orton's direction.

'I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to explain. So, you can keep on acting like a petulant little brat or you can shut up and listen.' Randy replied.

Clearly his increased exposure to Punk had caused him to be quick with harsh words.

Punk rolled his eyes and let out a huff of displeasure at not ridding himself of the Apex Predator. 'Make it quick. I was busy before you showed up.' Punk lied.

He was only reading his latest Batman comic book. Although in all fairness that was a damn important thing for Punk to accomplish. The Caped Crusader was one of his favourite comic books, and the untimely interruption from Randy hadn't soothed the residual anger he felt toward him in the slightest. It had only exacerbated it.

Randy knew Punk was infuriated with him, but he continued on with his objective. 'I'm just struggling with this whole thing and I made a dumb move. I know that and I wish I could take it back because I regret it so much.'

Punk let out a snort of derision. 'Whatever Randy, move it along.' Punk replied, trying his damndest to wear a look of disinterest, when really he was hanging on to every word that escaped the Vipers lips.

'It's been a hard thing to understand. For fucksake rewind six months and I was happily married and now...' Randy tailed off as he shook his head.

'And now what?' Punk queried on instinct. Immediately he chastised himself for showing to Randy that he was listening and interested in what he had to say.

'And now I'm not married. And I'm attracted to a man. I'm attracted to you. Sometimes it's hard to wrap my head around.' Randy replied honestly, as he again ran his sweaty palms over his jeans.

'It wasn't an easy thing for me to wrap my head around either.' Punk fired back.

'I know that.' Randy nodded in agreement.

'Really? Because all I ever hear is how this is affecting you.' Punk spat out angrily. 'Your head is so far up your own ass you don't realise that everything you're going through I've been going through too. You just continue to narcissistically ramble on about how this is all troubling you. Where as it's all going great for me, right? I'm on top of the fucking world.'

Punk's frustrations came pouring out, but surprisingly he managed to keep a lid on his anger. Despite it rattling and threatening to explode out of the can.

'I'm sorry.' Randy replied sincerely. 'I'm just not good at handling this.' Randy replied, as he realised Punk's words were gospel. He had been so wrapped up in his own inner turmoil he had barely registered Punk was dealing with the exact same emotions.

'You seemed to have found clarity last week.' Punk shrugged, unable to forget about the woman in the club that Randy had flirted with, no matter how hard he had tried. 'You found a nice whore to fuck.'

Randy's regret swarmed all over at him at that point. 'I know I was stupid last week. It just happened and when she came on to me...I don't know, it just felt good. I guess I hoped if a woman seemed interested in me that maybe these feelings I have for you would disappear.' Randy let out a breath that he wasn't aware of holding as he told Punk the truth.

'And? Have they disappeared?' Punk asked, hoping for a particular answer. Not that he would admit it. Nor would he ever admit that he knew his reaction to Randy and the blonde woman's amorous activities was illogical. Randy and he weren't together. They weren't official. So, in actuality he had no right to act the way he did.

Punk had dwelled on that for days. It took him a while, but he realised that his reaction boiled down to one thing. He wanted Randy Orton for himself. And him only.

'Well, as soon as I noticed you had left I immediately wanted to find you. Does that answer your question?' Randy asked, as he looked over at The Second City Saint and found the man finally meeting his gaze.

'You saying all this doesn't change anything. If a woman comes on to you again are you going to keep the little Viper in his pants? Or are you just going to follow your ego and be all proud that you can still get any woman you want?'

Punk's default setting was still to come out swinging, despite his internal revelation. His acid tongue was still causing damage and it was slashing Randy to pieces, but Randy took every attack in his stride knowing he warranted it.

'I don't want a woman. I want you.' Randy gulped as he declared his feelings and he saw and heard Punk's breath hitch in his throat at his statement.

A look of shock quickly faded from the Chicagoans features and was replaced with a look of contemplation.

'You saying that still doesn't mean that you can accept what you feel. I feel like the last time we talked honestly that we were going somewhere and then the next thing I know you're running out the door and then dry humping some woman.' Punk stated.

He wanted Randy's words to be true. He hoped they were so much. Maybe a little too much. But he was wary, he had been burnt before.

'I can't say for definite whether this thing between us will work out or what will happen, but I swear I want to try.' Randy replied, he was shocked by his own candor, he just hoped it was enough for Punk to forgive him.

'You can't deal with the fact that I'm a man, Randy. Sooner or later all those thoughts will come back to haunt you and we'll be back at square one.' Punk's pessimistic side reared its ugly head, he just couldn't believe that Randy wouldn't disappoint him all over again.

Randy became irritated at the lack of Punk's faith in him. He understood that his mistakes were the reason for it, but he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and being honest and sincere in a way that he had never been with Punk before.

Does he not even get credit for that?

'Well, I'm sorry I can't be like you and just accept it like it's nothing. I'm sorry that it has taken me a while!' Randy irritation began to boil over as the conversation turned more fierce.

'A while? Randy, you still haven't accepted it!' Punk's own irritation started to increase now too, if Randy thought a quick apology would mend everything than he was dead wrong. Enough was enough, it was time to stop the talk and walk the walk. 'No matter what we do or what we say the bottom line is you can't deal with the fact that I'm a man!'

Randy shook his head and ran his hands against the grain of his short hair. 'Believe me, I can deal with you being a man.' Randy replied, albeit more calmly.

Punk guffawed. 'Oh, really?'

'Yeah.' Randy nodded. 'I really can.'

Punk had no time to reply as Randy's lips were instantly on his. Randy kissed him hungrily, their lips crashing together as Randy's hands wrapped around Punk's back. Punk was lost in the moment, and as was so often the case once Randy's lips were on his, all doubts, all misgivings and all the anger flew out the window and all he could do was bask in the feelings that Randy brought out in him.

Punk found his own arms wrapping around Orton's slender form, and he couldn't suppress a moan once Randy's tongue found its way into his mouth. Randy's palms travelled up Punk's sides, gliding over every ridge of his rib cage before descending once more before meeting in the middle at the waistband of Punk's jeans.

Randy made quick work of the button and the zip and as the jeans loosened around Punk's hips, he was suddenly wary of Randy's boldness. Every other time he had been so proactive he was tanked up on alcohol.

Pulling away from their breath stealing kiss Punk stopped Randy's movements. 'Wait. Wait. Wait.' Grey eyes poured into his, Randy's forehead rested against his own as a tender kiss was placed on the bridge of his nose. Ironically in the same exact place where Randy accidentally broke Punk's nose a year earlier in their feud heading into Wrestlemania. 'You're not drunk are you?' Punk asked.

Randy smiled a little. Then he lifted Punk's chin with his index finger before placing another delicate kiss on his lips. Randy then shook his head. 'You can breathalyse me if you want to.'

Punk couldn't help the genuine smile that appeared. Randy was completely sober. All his words and actions that night had not been influenced by an alcohol binge. Now Punk felt they were running toward a precipice. They were now going to crash and burn or fly.

He felt soft gentle fingers run down his tattooed arms before they interlocked with his own. Randy guided Punk over to the bed, and Punk's head started to spin as he realised that for the moment he was definitely flying.

The air was clear, the clouds had vanished and it was just Randy and himself in their own little world in the cocoon of his hotel room.

Randy let go of Punk and he stood in front of him as he peeled his black tee-shirt from his body and kicked his shoes off his feet. Punk stood frozen in time as his eyes glided over the Vipers naked torso. He was brought out of his trance when he felt Orton's hands on his own tee-shirt and raised his arms in the air so Randy could remove the item of clothing. It joined Randy's shirt in a heap on the floor, it was quickly followed by more articles of clothing until both men were left in their boxers.

Randy backed Punk up until the back of his legs hit the bed. Randy pushed Punk gently down onto the mattress following him as he went, his lips never leaving Punk's neck as he peppered kisses over the soft skin before the soft lips travelled lower onto Punk's decorated chest.

As Randy slithered lower down Punk's body, he felt the touch of Punk's hardened member hit his stomach. He smirked up at the object of his desire, he could see the arousal dancing in the eyes of The Second City Saint. Knowing that Punk was just as excited as he was caused his own excitement to heighten even further.

Randy's fingers slipped under the waistband and Punk's hips rose off the bed to aid Orton in removing his underwear. Unlike their first sexual encounter this felt so much different. Punk felt incredibly naked, not in the physical sense, but in the emotional sense. He was laid out bare underneath Randy, and the raw ferocity of their first time was absent this time around.

This time was slow. It was full of meaning. It was full of emotion.

Randy's breath hitched in his throat as he looked over the completely naked Straight Edge Superstar. It may not be the first time that he had seen the man nude, but this was the first time he took the time to really notice every inch of Punk's body. It was the first time he really wanted to look. He wanted to study and remember every inch of the man laid bare beneath him. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of him, and right there in that moment he wanted to convey that to Punk.

Randy's thumbs ran circles over Punk's hips as his upper half lowered and hovered over Punk's manhood. Randy felt a sense of dread and hesitation wash over him as he remembered he had never done this before. He didn't want this to be horrible experience for Punk, nor a humiliating one for himself.

Punk raised his head from the bed, noticing the lack of touch and movement. Understanding Randy's pause Punk sat up. 'You don't...'

Before he could continue Randy's palm pushed him back down onto the bed and he then felt the first tentative touch from Randy.

He had come this far. There would be no backing down now.

With the apex of his tongue Randy licked at the head of Punk's cock. The taste may have been a new sensation, but it wasn't an unwelcome one and Randy licked at the head again. His actions became more brave and daring as he opened his mouth and enveloped the head of Punk's cock inside his warm and wet mouth.

Punk gasped as he felt his cock hit the roof of Randy's mouth and as Randy sucked on the head before releasing him Punk couldn't help but raise his hips wanting more of The Vipers divine touch. Randy's mouth on him was an exhilarating experience and he raised his hips impatiently wanting more and more and the precum that beaded at the head of his dick smeared over Randy's lips.

Randy looked up at him and licked his lips devilishly. 'Impatient fucker.' Randy quipped.

Before Punk could engage his brain to come back with a witty retort Randy took him back in his mouth and this time descended further onto Punk's length. He started to bob his head, setting a brisk rhythm that was driving Punk crazy.

Randy was enjoying feeling Punk come undone beneath him and his pride soared as Punk let out a low groan as Randy sunk even further down onto his length. The most surprising aspect for Randy however, was just how much he was enjoying pleasuring Punk.

His own dick hardened further and was straining for release from his boxers. The feeling of Punk's cock twitching against his tongue, Punk's deep breathing, Punk's moans and groans, Punk's hands cradling his head were all turning the Apex Predator on more than he had ever been before in his life and he couldn't help joining in with Punk's moans.

The vibrations from Randy's moans around Punk's dick caused the pleasure to increase further and an involuntary buck of Punk's hips sent his entire shaft down Randy's throat and to both mans surprise Randy took it and it spurred him on to try it again, only this time of his own volition.

Randy pinned Punk's hips to the bed as a hand roamed over Punk's thigh before cupping his sac, and then Orton rolled his balls gently in his palm. Punk could feel himself nearing his limit and his balls tightened further as Randy still took his dick into the deep cavern of his warm and wet mouth wantonly.

Punk's cock was glistening with the Vipers saliva as Randy momentarily released it. Orton took a much needed breath before licking from base to tip and he kissed the leaking head before going back to work and taking Punk back inside with earnest.

Nails scratched into Randy's scalp as a moan of The Vipers name echoed around the room. Orton smiled around Punk's length at hearing how delicious his name sounded coming from a moaning CM Punk.

Punk gasped as he felt his stomach tighten and he knew he was about to climax. 'Randy...I'm close...'

Punk managed to stutter and moan his warning, but Randy never floundered. He continued sucking and moaning around Punk and as Punk's hips jolted off the bed Randy latched onto his hips holding onto Punk tightly as Punk crashed into a euphoric orgasm.

Loud moans full of expletives reverberated around the otherwise silent room as Punk came. Randy closed his eyes as he felt Punk's climax shoot down his throat and he swallowed as more and more of Punk filled his mouth.

As Punk's orgasm diminished Randy lowered Punk back down onto the mattress and released Punk's dick from his mouth. Punk managed to open his eyes just a fraction and he smirked at Randy as the Apex Predator licked his lips to taste more of Punk on his tongue. He actually relished the taste of Punk's essence. Randy returned the grin as he looked at Punk's messed up hair and sated and pleasure filled features.

Punk was a quivering mess.

A beautiful quivering mess.

Randy's beautiful quivering mess.

Randy took deep breaths as his thumping heart started to return to its usual pace. He looked down at Punk's softening cock and he couldn't resist the temptation as he returned his tongue to Punk's body and licked up the remnants of Punk's cum from his balls and length before sucking on the head one last time. A soft hum of appreciation came from Punk as he felt Randy release him.

Randy crawled up the bed and collapsed beside Punk. He turned onto his side and just watched Punk. His eyes were closed, but the grin lit up his whole face. Randy leant forward and kissed Punk softly.

As they parted Punk's eyes crept open and gazed longingly at Randy. 'Are you sure you haven't done that before?' Punk asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted Randy to know how great he had made him feel.

Randy shook his head. 'I'm glad I impressed you.' Randy smirked.

'Oh, great. As if your ego needed a boost!' Punk joked, which was followed by a light punch in the arm from Randy.

Randy turned off his side and onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He was astonished at what he had done, but there was no sense of regret attached to it whatsoever. He had never felt such an adrenaline rush in his entire life. He enjoyed it. Hell, he more than enjoyed it. He relished every moment. Randy then felt a hand caress his abdomen and he looked down to see tattooed fingers run over his chiselled physique.

'You okay?' Punk asked, he had started to be concerned at the Vipers silence.

'Better than okay.' Randy replied as he looked over at Punk and smiled.

Punk stared into his eyes for a minute before planting a kiss on Randy's lips. 'That was amazing.' Punk smiled appreciatively.

'Good.' Randy replied as he ran a thumb over Punk's stubbled jaw.

Punk kissed him again before shifting closer to him on the bed before resting his head on Randy's chest. Punk closed his eyes as he still felt the sensation of flying. He still hadn't returned to earth yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

Punk hadn't felt so content in a long time and he happily led there with Randy as he felt his head softly rise and fall with Randy's chest as the Viper took in breath after breath.

'Hey, Punk?' Randy's voice rumbled through his chest.

'Yeah?' Punk replied.

'Can I ask you a favour?' Randy queried.

Punk raised his head from the mans chest and looked down at the man. 'I wonder what this could be?' Punk laughed as he ran his palm over Randy's taut stomach and ran his fingers down the outline of Randy's hard cock that was still in the confines of his boxers, thinking he had read Orton's mind.

Randy bit his bottom lip as Punk's fingers gripped his shaft trying desperately not to moan. 'Not that.' Randy smiled and he saw a look of confusion run over Punk's face. 'Can you please not call my penis my little Viper ever again?'

Punk smirked and laughed. He nodded a yes before kissing Randy fully on the lips once more. Punk pulled away just as the kiss became more heated and slid down Randy's body.

'Hey, where are you going?' Randy asked disappointed at the sharp end to their kiss, as he watched Punk nestle himself between his thighs.

Punk smirked. 'Where do you think?' Punk hooked his fingers in the waistband of Orton's underwear and pulled them down just enough for Randy's member to spring free. 'I'm returning the favour.'

Punk smiled before he licked the thick shaft from base to tip. 'You got a problem with that?' Punk smirked as he ran his tongue around the head. Randy gasped and shook his head as an emphatic no. 'Good.'

The room was hurriedly refilled with moans and groans and cries of each of their names. The next step had been taken now, and maybe they had turned a corner. One thing was for sure was both men weren't even thinking about any possible ramifications of their actions at that moment.

But now that they had taken that next step their attraction would be even harder to walk away from.

And on that particular night, the notion of walking away wasn't even plausible. They were in the moment together and they were revelling in it.

...

* * *

**Well, I hope you liked it! I'm wondering how long it will be until the drama pops up again though?! I swear those two are a nightmare, drama is never far away! Thank you for all the reviews, I never imagined I'd get as many as I have so a massive thank you :)**

**p.s. Does fanfiction keep logging anyone else out all the time over and over again?**


	13. Chapter 13

Randy rolled over onto his back his eyes slowly opening ready to start another day. His legs were tangled in the sheets that were only covering him up to his waist, and he became aware that he was currently naked save for that thin white cotton sheet.

As the sleep filled mist receded and the grogginess vanished Randy recalled where he was and what happened the previous night. He sat up, propping a pillow behind his head as he rested back against the headboard of the bed.

He took a sip of water and then looked around his current surroundings, wanting to lay his eyes on something in particular. The particular thing, was a person and he was missing from the bed, and Randy was sure that before he fell asleep last night that Punk was right there beside him.

Randy's gaze fell on Punk's prized Chicago Cubs cap and he came to the conclusion that the Second City Saint couldn't be too far away. He never goes anywhere without that damn cap!

Randy couldn't help a nostalgic smile as he thought back to the previous night he had spent with Punk. The night was phenomenal. It was exhilarating. It felt like a turning point.

'What are you grinning at?' A voice sounded, that Randy instantly knew was Punk's.

Randy looked over the far side of the room to see a fully dressed Punk returning from the balcony. 'Am I not allowed to grin?'

'You can grin. I'm just more used to the grumpy version of Randy Orton. Well that and the dumb-ass version.' Punk smirked as his sarcastic nature made its latest appearance.

As Punk neared the bed Randy suddenly sat up and reached out for the man. He grabbed Punk by the wrist and tugged him onto the bed. Punk sat down beside Orton and before he could open his mouth Randy's lips moulded to his. It only took a split second for Punk to react to the kiss and once he found his feet he was kissing Randy with an equal amount of force and passion. Punk took the lead and ran his tongue along the seal of Randy's lips. Immediately Randy acquiesced and their tongues collided and swirled around one anothers in a deep and intense kiss.

Randy retreated, taking a deep breath to appease his lungs. 'You're wearing to many articles of clothing, Punk.' Randy smiled as he fiddled with the bottom of Punk's tee-shirt.

'Really?' Punk smiled. It seemed to be a permanent fixture since he had woke up. It was even brighter now that Randy was awake and appeared to not regret their previous nights actions. Punk had to admit that he was incredibly apprehensive and nervous about finding out Randy's reaction once he awoke. But now he was full of relief at how relaxed Randy seemed.

'Yes you are.' Randy nodded as he kissed along Punk's jaw. 'You should come back to bed.' Randy suggested as he nibbled up to Punk's earlobe.

'I wish I could. But I've got media appearances today.' Punk confirmed.

'That sucks.' Randy declared, and Punk nodded in agreement. 'I've got Smackdown houseshows coming up too so I guess we wont see each other for a few days.' Randy continued full of disappointment.

'Well, tomorrow we should be free. I can do my media appearances here in Philly, and then once I'm done I can come to New Jersey to see you after you've taped Smackdown and then we can have the next two days together before the weekend houseshows.' Punk stated. Apart of him felt ridiculous for not wanting to be away from Randy for the next six days.

'Sounds good to me.' Randy smiled, and kissed Punk briefly on the lips. 'When do you have to leave?' Randy queried.

Punk retrieved his iPhone from his jeans pocket and looked at the time. 'I've only got about fifteen minutes.'

'When did you get up?' Randy asked.

'About half six.' Punk answered.

'You only had like three hours sleep!' Randy exclaimed.

Punk shrugged before simply replying. 'Insomnia.'

Randy nodded. 'Right.' He knew Punk suffered with insomnia, it made him feel guilty that he had slept in till gone eight am.

'Trust me getting three hours sleep is decent for me.' Punk stated. He got up from the bed and began to gather his belongings together by the door ready to leave.

Once all his stuff was accumulated at the door he went back to the bed, and more importantly Randy. Randy pulled him closer to his body and kissed him lightly on the lips.

'How much longer have you got?' Randy asked.

Again Punk checked the time on his cell. 'Just under ten minutes.'

'We've got more time for this then.' Randy smirked as he pulled Punk on top of him and kissed him passionately.

...

Punk was thankful to finally sit down for his latest radio interview. Ever since he left Randy at the hotel he'd been in a mad rush. Admittedly that was his own fault seeing as how he left Randy ten minutes later than he should have as he couldn't drag himself away from the Viper. And Randy wouldn't let him go either.

So, Punk had arrived late for his first radio interview and had been dashing around that morning trying to catch up on the lost time. The WWE representative that was with him for his media day had given him the third degree about his tardiness. He even questioned Punk as to why he was late. Punk immediately felt as though he was back in high school and replied with his usual dose of smart-ass sarcasm.

'Sorry sir, my dog ate my homework and I couldn't find my books.' He quipped, and smirked at the disgruntled man.

He was doing his fourth and final radio interview of the day. It was the promotional blitz for Wrestlemania seeing as the big event was now less than two weeks away. Due to it being his fourth of the day Punk's attention span was beginning to wane. His mind kept on drifting back to the hotel room he had left that morning. Well more importantly what happened in the hotel room as a matter of fact.

He never imagined he would be so intimate with another man. He never believed he could be so attracted to a man. But he had and he was. The latest progression in the surprising twist that had unfolded in his life was that he had a man go down on him. Hell, he never imagined he would reciprocate that act and have another guys dick in his mouth. He never ever believed he could ever enjoy that. But he had done it and he had enjoyed it more than any other sexual experience in his life.

The only other sexual encounter that came close just so happened to be with the exact same person.

Randy Orton.

Randy and his first sexual contact after the Chamber event was amazing.

Last nights was exceptional.

Even just recalling it in his minds eye caused his cock to stir in his jeans, and Punk was still amazed that a man could conjure up such arousal in him. Punk shook his head in an effort to banish those thoughts from his mind and concentrate on the idiot that was the latest radio host.

His mind was a stubborn foe however. Flashes of Randy's naked body writhing against his own, the taste of Randy on his tongue, the sounds of Randy's raspy moans and the feeling of Randy's breath tingling against his skin made his concentration falter and he got lost in a rush of memories that attacked his senses.

Eventually he was brought back by the host waving his hand in his eye line to garner his attention. 'Sorry, I got lost in my own world there.' Punk apologised. 'What were you saying?'

Somehow he managed to negotiate his way through the final stages of the interview. He hyped his match against Jericho at WrestleMania for the WWE title. In fact he hyped the entire event. He even name dropped a certain Vipers match against Kane as one of the bouts he was looking forward to seeing most. A huge wave of relief washed over him as the interview concluded, he could finally let his memories wash over him and bask in them like he wanted to do. He shook hands and signed autographs and took some pictures before taking his leave.

Once he was back into the car he looked at his cell to see he had a text. When he saw which contact it was from he smiled. When he read the words, he beamed.

_Text received 12.57pm_

_from: Randal Orton_

_I can't wait to see you later. R._

Punk felt like the journey he had been on the last few weeks was actually worth it now that he had reached the light at the end of the tunnel. While in its midst he almost threw in the towel on more than one occasion. He often felt like Randy and his intense mood swings weren't worth the hassle, but once he got glimpses of the real Randy Orton he knew that any thoughts of throwing in the towel were hollow.

And now that Randy and he were on the same page Punk couldn't help but feel on top of the world, and just in time for Wrestlemania too. Punk's career was at an all time high, he was the WWE champion going into the biggest show of the year. All the while his personal life now mirrored the success of his professional life.

Punk shook his head at the realisation that being with Randy Orton actually made him happy.

Life was strange.

Very strange indeed.

...

After their two days together confined in a hotel; where the vast majority of their time was spent unashamedly in the bedroom Punk and Randy reluctantly had gone their separate ways for the weekends houseshows. They parted with a new depth of understanding and knowledge of each others personalities. Their likes and dislikes. Their personal history.

But now Monday had finally come around again and it was the night of the final Raw before Wrestlemania that Sunday. Punk had his final confrontation with Jericho and Randy had likewise with Kane. Both men were excited about their upcoming matches at the biggest show of the year.

For Punk, this was his moment to shine. Going into any Mania as WWE champion was a big deal, and despite the obvious fact that Cena vs The Rock would be the show closer it didn't mean it would be the show stealer. No matter where Punk was placed on the card, he had every intention of going out there on Sunday and stealing the show with Jericho. They were both capable of doing just that, and without meaning any offence to The Rock or Cena, Jericho and he were at a higher level with their wrestling ability than either of those guys.

As for Randy he realised this was a year where he wouldn't be in the title picture on the Grandest Stage of Them All, and he was actually content with that. He was happy to be having a feud with the Big Red Machine. Kane was always a fun person to wrestle. Despite his size, the big man was agile and Randy felt like they could put on a pretty great match that may just surprise people.

Punk saw Randy at the end of the corridor and jogged up to him. They had briefly seen one another across the crowded catering hall and the bustling locker room after that, but they hadn't had the opportunity to talk. Or to kiss. And right in that moment all Punk wanted to do was to kiss Randy with three days pent up passion and fire.

'Hey.' Randy greeted him. 'Only six days to you blow them all away, huh?'

Punk nodded. 'That's the plan.'

'You'll do it. I know you will.' Randy stated confidently. He knew what Punk was capable of in the squared circle. He just wished that when they feuded last year it could've been longer and they could've pushed the limits more. He had a desire for a reignition of their feud somewhere down the line.

'Nice to know you've got faith in me.' Punk smiled affectionately.

He looked over his shoulder and around the general vicinity and when he was happy that they were alone and would be uninterrupted, he stepped in close to the Viper and placed his lips onto Randy's.

The kiss, if you could even call it that was sharply ended before Punk's lips had done no more than caress the Vipers as Randy pushed Punk away from him.

'What the hell are you doing?' Randy snapped.

Punk was confused. 'What do you mean?'

'Anyone could've walked around the corner, Punk. Anyone could've seen us.' Randy hissed, his anger was evident by the clench of his jaw and the ice cold glare he was sending Punk's way, but he was keeping his words quiet to avoid anyone hearing him.

Punk rolled his eyes and shook his head. It was to good to be true after all Punk thought to himself. He felt a rush of disappointment envelop him and he turned from Randy and walked back down the corridor and walked into the vacant locker room.

He heard Randy follow him as he went to his locker. 'Punk, don't be mad. I just didn't want anyone to see.'

'Unless people can morph into trash cans or mould themselves into a wall no one would've seen Randy!' Punk snarled sarcastically.

'Anyone could've come round the corner. You know that!' Randy replied. He couldn't fathom why Punk would take such a risk. He had only just got his mind wrapped around whatever it was that was between Punk and himself. Surely Punk could understand that he didn't want anyone else to know about them.

'No, I don't know that. There was no one around Randy! But what I do know is that I'm pissed off with your mood swings! And one minute you want me and the next you don't! I can't keep up!' Punk yelled. 'I'm sick of it!'

Punk thought they were past the freak outs and the mood swings, but alas it turned out that Randy had returned to square one all over again.

'Come on, I think I have the right to be mad!' Randy argued, if someone had spotted them the repercussions could be catastrophic. He knew it. And Punk knew it. So why was he being so difficult?

Punk shook his head. 'You know, I never know what Randy I'm going to get and I've had enough of it.'

'What do you mean?' Randy asked, concerned that Punk was about to end whatever their relationship was.

Only this time it would be for good.

'I don't know what I mean.' Punk shrugged, really not knowing what his own words meant at all. All he knew was that he needed to focus on Wrestlemania, without any distractions. He needed to be drama free. And Randy was a constant distraction, and drama always seemed to be lurking around the corner. 'I just need some space for a little while.'

Punk gathered up his stuff and walked out of the room, leaving Randy absolutely confused with no idea where he stood with the WWE champion.

Where as Punk was left to ponder that the light at the end of the tunnel that he thought he had reached may actually be an oncoming train, primed and ready to obliterate him.

Nothing was ever simple with Randy Orton. There was never any smooth sailing. Instead Punk just found himself swept up in one titanic wave after another. And right now, it was the last thing he needed in his hectic and chaotic life.

...

Punk's phone buzzed and he saw the caller ID flash up as 'Randal Orton'. He knew that he had left Randy hanging. He left the Viper drowning in questions about where they stood, but right now all Punk wanted to focus on was Wrestlemania. Punk wondered if he was being selfish, but he was so determined to kill it at Mania and make the most of the opportunity to prove certain people wrong that he had little choice but to distance himself from the Viper.

This Sunday was the biggest moment of his career and he needed to be on his A game. He picked up his cell and cancelled the call, and instantly guilt started to gnaw away at him.

Punk sighed and threw his cell onto a nearby chair. He then started to plot his match with Jericho, trying to come up with some interesting spots that they could execute, but all his mind kept on seeing and what it kept on circling back to was Randy.

Punk slid across the bed and reached for his iPhone and rifled through his contact list until he landed on Randy's number. His thumb lingered over the call button for what seemed like an eternity.

Punk didn't know what to do. He didn't want to push Randy away. But he didn't want to waste and watch the huge opportunity of a main event match at Wrestlemania disappear. He made a promise to himself in that moment that as soon as Wrestlemania was over he would find Randy and smooth things over.

But until then, he would just have to wait to reconcile with the Viper.

He just hoped the risk he was taking would pay off, and that Randy would still be there waiting for him come Sunday night.

...

* * *

**Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter, it was amazing to read every single one of them. As for this chapter, those two just can't get there act together can they? Drama, drama, drama! :p**


	14. Chapter 14

**OMG! Over a 100 reviews?! You are all insanely awesome! Thank you so much. I can't believe it. Now I'm hoping you don't get fed up with the rollercoaster that is this fic lol. Here is the next chapter. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

It was Wrestlemania week. It was Thursday; three days before the ultimate event on the wrestling calendar, and WWE had taken over the city of Miami.

The word on everyone's lips seemed to be 'Wrestlemania'. TV stations, radio stations and the internet were awash with Wrestlemania fever. Huge billboards with the Superstars and Divas faces on them were all over the city; including the faces of CM Punk and Randy Orton.

The buzz was insane. The electricity tangible. From the Superstars to the fans to the referees absolutely everyone was hyped up for the biggest event of the year.

However, in the midst of all the controlled chaos one man just couldn't feel all the excitement and hysteria. In fact that man was resenting it. He craved for all the fans to leave him alone and to let him decay in his pit of anguish. He wished that all the other Superstars and Divas weren't bouncing off the walls with anticipation. While there world was vibrant and luminous, he was languishing in a world that was made up of a dark and morbid shade of grey.

That man was Randy Orton.

Randy Orton was under a dark cloud and the rain was pouring down without any sign of relenting. Somehow he had managed to make his way through his fan signings without his anger detonating, despite it coming close to doing just that on more than one occasion.

His volatility was always a worry for the company and for himself. There was always a risk of him blowing up and RKO'ing every fan in the line for his autograph. Luckily that hadn't ever happened.

Yet.

Randy's temper was ignited for the simple reason of everyone around him being so happy and excited, where as all he felt inside was agony and regret.

After all the months of Punk and he dancing around what was between them it seemed like they had finally got their act together and found some kind of uncomfirmed relationship form.

However, three days ago all that had been ripped to shreds.

Randy couldn't even fathom how it had. Everything seemed to be going so well, and then he had admittedly overreacted over a kiss that Punk snuck upon him. But the reason for his reaction he felt was valid. Anyone could have seen them in that hallway, and he stood by that opinion. Punk wasn't gifted with premonitions, he couldn't be sure than no one would walk round the corner and be witness to their affectionate clinch.

Due to his own overreaction Punk himself followed his lead and overreacted to the Vipers dissatisfaction and left Randy absolutely perplexed as to the status of their relationship. Punk hadn't told him that they were finished, just that he needed space.

Deep down though Randy believed he had made one mistake to many in Punk's eyes and it had cost him.

Randy had been torn over the following days. He wanted to respect Punk's wishes for space, but at the same time so many questions remained unanswered. Randy was clueless as to how they stood with each other, and he couldn't stand it.

He fought the urge to get the answers initially, but after hours of stewing in his hotel room he had caved in and called Punk on his cell that very night after Raw.

His call was cancelled.

He felt crushed in that moment, and he was sure that the relationship had reached its unsurprising ugly and bitter end. After all how could a relationship between two brutally volatile men ever end well?

He wondered if it was even worth trying to call again. Obviously The Voice of the Voiceless didn't want to talk to him, he had asked for space so Randy decided to abide by his wish. Well, he had after he sent one last text the following night after the Smackdown taping had concluded.

_Text received 11.39pm_

_from: Randal Orton_

_I know I've said this many times before, and I'm sure you're sick of it, but I'm sorry. I'll give you the space you asked for. R._

Despite feeling that Punk had finally reached his breaking point and had enough of him and their relationship, Randy wanted Punk to know that he hadn't. At least not yet.

Since Randy had touched down in Miami, Florida his mood had grown increasingly sour and he knew the only one that could sweeten it would be CM Punk.

That was a long shot though, and Randy believed that hoping for Punk to change his mind would be in vain. He let out a sigh as he mulled that over in his head for the millionth time in the space of three days.

The elevator doors opened and he felt a sense of relief that he was away from screaming fans and all his colleagues after his final fan signing of the day. He could now sit and dwell in the isolation of his hotel room. As he reached his door he fumbled around in his pockets for his key card.

A door opened behind him from down the hallway, but he paid no attention. That was until he heard the voice that he craved to hear above everything else in the world. He looked back over his shoulder to see Punk looking back into his hotel room obviously talking to someone. Punk was in his cargo cut off pants and a grey hoodie, and Randy couldn't hold back the thought of how good Punk looked. It still felt slightly odd to have that reaction when just simply seeing Punk, but the more it happened the more Randy seemed to accept it.

Eventually Punk's companion appeared and Randy's stomach twisted in knots and his heart sunk even further into dark and dank murky waters depths as Lita joined Punk in the hallway.

Randy watched as the couple; who he knew had dated in the past, casually walked down to the elevator laughing happily while being oblivious to the coiled Vipers intense stare zeroing in on them.

Randy shook his head in disbelief. After all that Punk had berated him for after his indiscretion with the woman in the club a few weeks back Punk was now doing the same thing. The man was a hypocrite. He accused Randy of running back to a woman, but as soon as they clash Punk does the very same thing. And not just any woman. No! He runs back to an ex. That certainly poured an extra amount of salt on an already painful wound.

The Vipers emptiness was hurriedly filled to the brim with burning rage. His temper was beginning to increase at the speed of light in ferocity and the eye of the storm was well and truly honed in on CM Punk.

...

Twenty four hours.

Twenty four long arduous hours Randy had ran over the scene again and again. Punk leaving his room with Lita by his side had swirled around within his head over and over and over again. Without a minute of sleep, his temper had picked up pace and now the cyclone was tearing him apart from the inside and its fury sooner or later would track down Punk and tear him to pieces.

The twisted Viper thought that was exactly what The Second City Saint deserved.

The vicious winds would collect Punk up and unleash its attack with intent on hurting him before spitting him back out unceremoniously and with no hint of remorse.

Randy was loitering at his own door. He had been for most of the day. He was waiting to pounce on his unwitting prey. He almost went for Punk earlier in the day, but Lita had emerged from the room too and that made the cyclone even more perilous. In fact every sighting, every thought of the Extreme Diva drove Randy even more insane.

If Lita and Punk valued their exsistence they would do well to avoid the Apex Predator, but alas they were unaware of his intentions. Just as they were unaware of his discovery of them being in the same hotel room.

Randy fidgeted finding himself unable to calm down, he needed to get this over with. The waiting and suspense was driving him even further into his rage and he wondered when the mist receded what would be left after he unleashed his destructive force on Punk.

He knew for damn sure that if he truly let the anger control him he would most likely pummel Punk within an inch of his life, and that would certainly spell the end for their relationship.

Truth be told, a beaten and bloody CM Punk was not what he desired. All he longed for was answers. Answers that could only be given from the Chicago native. Once he claimed them, that would be when the test of his control truly commenced.

Finally Randy heard footsteps and he looked through the crack in his door to see the man that currently drew his ire. Punk had returned to his room, and Randy watched as Punk patted his pockets in search for his key card, and Randy paused to make sure Lita wasn't about to appear.

He saw Punk unearth his key card and with no Lita present Randy rushed from his room. He stopped right behind Punk. He slithered behind the man without a sound, ready to uncoil and just as Punk's door opened he made his presence known.

'You and Lita again, huh?' Randy stated, his anger evident in his tone and body language.

Punk flinched at the unexpected appearance and turned to him and noticed the look. He had seen it before. The last time he had ended up being choked within an inch of his life. He was in dangerous waters and he could easily be swallowed up in the treacherous waves. But as per usual Punk never took much notice of warning signs.

'What?!' Punk snapped, already annoyed at the accusatory manner in which Randy had greeted him with.

'Don't deny it. I saw you, Punk.' Randy snarled, as the cold stare was threatening to turn The Second City Saint into ice.

'You saw what?' Punk questioned as he folded his arms, waiting for Randy to elaborate.

'I saw you two coming out of your room!' Randy bellowed, as his chest heaved and his jaw clenched tightly.

'Oh, wow. Really? Well did you call the police?' Punk smirked at his sarcastic retort. He was finding these mood swings of the Apex Predator getting more and more tedious.

'Don't fucking play with me, Punk!' Randy growled. 'You tell me I can't keep my cock in my pants and I can't deal with you being a man, but you're a fucking hypocrite. You're doing exactly what you hated me for!'

Punk shook his head and scoffed, he had already had enough of this conversation. 'Get out of my face.'

Punk walked into his room, desperate to get away from Randy before one of them or both said something that they would regret, but when he turned to close the door Randy had already forced his way into the room also.

'Get out and go fuck yourself, Randal.' Punk spat out harshly.

'No! I want you to admit it. Tell me face to face that you're fucking Lita again.' Randy demanded.

Punk rolled his eyes and shook his head in defiance.

The cyclone was picking up speed and was threatening to not only destroy the room, but it was threatening to put an end to Punk and Randy's relationship for good. Randy's fist had balled up and they were twitching, ready to hammer Punk with full force. Yet somehow Randy was fighting his usual violent tendencies.

If he hit Punk again there was no way of redeeming himself. No way of coming back from that. He didn't want to lose Punk. He didn't. He really didn't. Even though he was furious with the man, he didn't want to walk away from their relationship. Randy realised in that moment that those thoughts really were the truth. An epiphany hit him hard, and the strength in the winds of his cyclonic temper began to weaken to a dull breeze.

'Please, Punk.' Randy said quietly. 'Just tell me. You owe me that much.'

'I don't owe you anything.' Punk replied flatly.

He chewed on his lip as he watched the Viper's demeanour change. A look of defeat, a look of disappointment. Punk didn't want him to think that he had forgotten about him. About them.

Truth be told Punk was relieved to see that his wish for space hadn't ended Randy's attraction to him. He had wondered over the course of the last few days whether Randy really would be waiting for him after Wrestlemania had been and gone.

'Just tell me.' Randy pleaded, actually feeling nervous at the words that Punk would respond with.

Punk couldn't string Randy along, he couldn't have him thinking that he had abandoned their relationship so easily and quickly. 'I'm not with her. She's just a friend.'

Randy looked at him then, a mixture of relief and shock was reflected in the ice. 'So, why is she here?'

'She's a friend, she wanted to come and support me.' Punk confirmed.

'Right. Okay.' Randy felt rather ashamed that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Not to mention embarrassed at his obvious display of jealousy. 'I'm sorry I doubted you.'

Punk shrugged. 'I probably would've thought the same.' He admitted. He was often guilty of having the compulsion to assume without gaining facts first.

Their eyes locked and all that both men wanted to do in that very moment was to leave Monday in the past and move on. Preferably starting with one of their mind numbing, breath stealing kisses. But both stood rigid and glued to the spot cautious of making a wrong move.

Eventually Randy cleared his throat and moved toward the door to leave. 'I'll give you space from now on. I promise.' Randy stated as he focussed on the door as he felt unable to look at Punk any longer. If he did he would give in to his urges and kiss Punk, and he thought that Punk would kick his ass if he did that.

Just as Randy grasped the door handle Punk spoke stopping him in his tracks.

'What if I don't want space?' Punk asked. 'What if I realised I had been an idiot for asking that?'

Randy turned back around to look around at the man that he had fallen for. 'Really?'

'Well, ever since I said I wanted space all I've done is think about you. Wondering where you were. And what you were doing. Wishing you were here with me.' Punk shrugged, wanting to hide or vanish into thin air. He was never comfortable with admitting his true feelings.

Randy stepped back from the door. 'I'm sorry I overreacted, I just panicked.' Randy apologised, alluding to the events of Monday night.

Punk shook his head. 'I was the one that overreacted. You were right anyone could've seen and that wouldn't of been good. I guess seeing you freak out just made me feel like you were going back to square one and you'd pull away from me again.'

'I guess that's understandable.' Randy replied. He knew that he had a lot of stop starts during this whole ordeal, and Punk had bore the brunt of his mood swings and his change in decisions.

'So, how do you feel about just forgetting that Monday ever happened?' Punk suggested as he inched closer to the Apex Predator.

'I think I'd like that.' Randy smiled faintly as he approached Punk.

Once Punk was in arms reach Randy tugged him into his body and kissed him passionately on the lips. His tongue ran along the seal of Punk's lips and with no hesitation Punk granted him access. Randy's tongue swirled around Punk's and Punk returned the kiss trying to make up for the lost three days that they were apart.

Punk pulled away after another quick kiss to Orton's lips. 'Did we just have a talk about our feelings?'

Randy ran his palms over the small of Punk's back as he nodded. 'I think so.'

Punk raised an eyebrow. 'That's...interesting.' Punk smiled, it was another step in the right direction.

'Yeah.' Randy replied as he returned the smile before kissing and nibbling at Punk's jaw and neck.

'I feel a bit sick now actually.' Punk smirked, and Randy laughed into the crook of his neck.

Randy moved away from Punk's neck and kissed him softly on the lips before resting his forehead against the smaller mans. 'Well, I'm sorry if this induces vomit, but I...err...I missed you. Just a little bit. And I swear I can still deal with you being all man now.'

Punk smiled, unable to hide it as Randy's words sunk in. 'Oh, really?' Punk asked.

Randy smirked this time as his palm ran over the front of Punk's jeans and trailed down until he gripped Punk's stiffening member.

'Definitely.'

Randy smiled as Punk gasped, then he started to palm Punk's erection through the fabric of the jeans he wore as Punk guided and manoeuvred them over to the bed to make up for lost time.

...


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for all the lovely and supportive reviews. I'm still surprised I've got over a 100 lol. This chapter got longer and longer and longer, I couldn't stop writing so I hope you enjoy it. :)**

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Randy looked around his surroundings seeing all his colleagues both male and female dressed up to the nines. The night before Wrestlemania was always a special one as the Hall of Fame ceremony took place. Legends from the past are honoured and inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame.

Randy had often wondered if he would end up their one day. Many had said he would, but he couldn't help but have a pessimistic outlook on the notion. He had made mistakes in his career, some could've potentially been cataclysmic and ended his wrestling career. Now more than ever he was adamant he wouldn't be making mistakes of that nature ever again.

Randy smiled as Natalya and Beth Phoenix walked past and waved a greeting at him. Randy never felt comfortable in these situations. There were too many people and when it comes to groups there is way too much potential for someone to piss him off. By the end of the night he could almost guarantee he would be mad at someone.

Randy shook his head at his own thoughts, he then reasoned that at least if he's going in with the lowest of expectations he can't be disappointed.

A beer was placed in his hand by John Cena and he engaged in casual conversation with the man, along with the Irishman Sheamus and Chris Jericho.

Every so often his concentration would lapse and his mind would wander off into increasingly common territory. That territory being a certain Straight Edge Superstar.

A sizeable chunk of the time that they had spent together the previous night Punk had whined and complained about having to wear a suit to the ceremony. All he kept on saying was that a suit wasn't him. He kept on asking why he couldn't just wear his jeans and a hoodie over and over again. Randy had told him it is a formal occasion so suits are a necessity. Punk had rolled his eyes like he always had the compulsion to do when he was annoyed or disgruntled. He told Randy that he would look like a dumb-ass all dressed up. Randy replied with it was only for one night and to quit bitching and instead use his mouth for something else. Punk had obliged and it certainly shut him up for a good long while.

Randy came back to reality as he saw three sets of eyes looking at him with an expression like he had grown an extra head. 'What?'

'Where the hell did you go, fella?' Sheamus queried.

'What do you mean?' Randy asked.

'You were completely spaced out.' Cena stated.

'I thought you had gone catatonic.' Jericho added.

'Well, I haven't. I was just thinking about stuff.' Randy deflected wanting the attention off himself.

'Oh, stuff.' Cena smiled. 'Like a woman?' He asked as he nodded his head as if he had read Randy's mind. Randy was thankful that the man couldn't because he would really be in for a surprise.

'Orton you got a lady on your mind?' Sheamus smirked.

Randy raised an eyebrow at the school age antics of the pair. 'No, there is no woman. Now if you don't mind I'm going to get another drink.'

'Denial.' Cena yelled, as Orton walked away.

Randy let out a deep breath once he had gained some distance from the inquiring minds of his colleagues. He didn't want anyone to know he had been lost in thought about someone he was attracted to. He would get the equivalent of the spanish inquisition and he was afraid somewhere along the way he would let slip some personal details that he really wasn't ready for the world to know.

The attraction and relationship between Punk and himself was their business. And theirs alone.

And speak of the devil.

Randy's eyes practically popped out of his head as he saw Punk appear with Lita by his side. He knew Lita was there, but he could barely acknowledge her existence at that precise moment in time. Nor anyone else's for that matter.

All he saw was Punk looking drop dead gorgeous in a suit. Randy had to withstand the urge to walk right over there and claim Punk's lips in a breath stealing kiss before whispering in his ear how gorgeous he looked.

Randy never would've believed a man in a suit could do so much to him. But Punk was. He was getting turned on and his eyes couldn't leave Punk as he made his way through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting person after person. He could see Punk's eyes darting around the room soughting something out. When finally they came to a halt, as they met his.

As soon as their gaze collided Randy's arousal heightened and his dick twitched within the confines of his boxers. Punk smiled before his attention was drawn away by Mick Foley greeting him and Lita.

As Lita linked her arm with Punk's Randy couldn't help the twinge of jealousy run through him. He reminded himself that Punk and her relationship was purely platonic, but it irked the Viper that she could touch Punk when he couldn't. And right then and there he so wanted to touch Punk. He wanted to touch the man all over and tell him just how delicious he looked.

Randy smiled knowing that his attraction to Punk wasn't diminishing in the slightest. As a matter of fact it only ever seemed to intensify and grow further and further out of control. Equally pleasing was that he wasn't freaked out about it.

Unfortunately Punk was dragged further away from Randy as he underwent the torture that was meeting and greeting everyone that was in the room. Randy for now tore his gaze from the man as his drink arrived and he started talking to Ziggler and Ryder.

Twenty minutes soon passed since Punk's arrival and Randy still hadn't got anywhere near him. But finally it seemed he would get his moment. Punk was at the bar looking around the sea of people trying to seek out Orton and Randy quickly saw him and made an excuse to leave the crowd he was currently with and made his way toward the bar.

As Randy slithered his way through the masses Punk saw him approaching. A smile rose up as Randy stood beside him at the bar. 'You had a suit after all then?'

'It was buried someone in my closet, but I managed to unearth it.' Punk answered.

'I'm glad you did. You look amazing.' Randy said, as he leaned into Punk so only he could hear.

Punk couldn't suppress the rush that ran down his spine at Randy's words. 'You don't scrub up to bad yourself.'

'I want to kiss you so bad right now.' Randy whispered, his breath ghosting over Punk's ear and neck creating a shiver to shudder throughout the Chicagoans body.

Punk smirked, then he saw Cena approaching through his peripheral vision. He assumed he would be coming to see Randy so he decided to make his exit. Before he did though he let his fingers graze Randy's hand, the only sign of affection he could show in a such a bustling and crowded room. There really was eyes everywhere.

'Later.' Punk smiled, he hoped that sooner rather than later Randy and he could find a desolate space to kiss. He jutted his chin at the arriving Cena as he walked off with a glass of Pepsi in hand.

...

Over two hours of pure torture Randy endured. He wanted to get his hands on the object of his desire, yet he couldn't. What made the situation worse was that during the Hall of Fame ceremony he was situated so close to Punk. One person was between them.

Lita.

Randy gritted his teeth at his bad luck. He had nothing against Lita during her time with the company, in fact they got on well, but ever since Randy had got the wrong idea about Punk and her friendship she somehow rubbed him up the wrong way. Probably because for the last twenty four hours she had been a barrier between Punk and himself.

Randy had to return to his own room the night prior after Punk and he had worked things out because Lita would be returning. He couldn't see Punk in the morning because Lita and he were both going to Axxess early. He then couldn't get near him tonight either. It was like a force field had been installed around Punk and he just couldn't get past it.

Admittedly Lita probably didn't deserve the current hatred that was directed at her, but Randy couldn't help it. He wanted to have Punk to himself right now, was that really too much to ask?

The Hall of Fame after party was now in full swing and finally Punk looked over at Randy and tilted his head and smirked. Randy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Punk's eyes flickered over to the door to the gentlemen's bathroom. Randy followed Punk's eyeline, and before he could look back at Punk the Second City Saint was already on his way over to the door. Randy smiled, this was his chance. He quickly excused himself and hurried after Punk.

As soon as he rushed through the door he saw Punk stood waiting for him. The teasing smirk was still present and enticing. Without delay Randy was on Punk, his lips crashing onto the Second City Saints.

A hum of appreciation from Punk was followed by his tongue asking for entry as it ran along the seal of Randy's lips. Access was quickly granted and the kiss turned more zealous. Hands started roaming over each others bodies as bodies grinded against each other. Randy pulled away a fraction from Punk, he opened his eyes and was pleased to see the lust dancing in Punk's eyes. It matched his own.

The bright lights over their heads bounced off the metal of Punk's lip ring making it shine. Randy couldn't help himself as the apex of his tongue touched the cool metal before he took it between his teeth and pulled on it gently. He felt Punk's nails dig into his hips as he pulled harder on the piercing.

He released the grip that his teeth had on Punk's lip ring and kissed him fully on the lips. Just as the momentum of the kiss started to increase the Apex Predator pulled away. He walked around Punk, his hand running across Punk's stomach before his feet took him to far and his hand had no choice but to leave Punk's body.

Punk's gaze followed him as Randy stopped in the door way of a cubicle. Punk watched enthralled as Randy's fingers slid to his waist and then he teasingly lowered the zipper on his pants at a criminally slow pace.

Punk could already feel the affects that Randy's display was having on his body, and without hesitation he joined Randy in the cubicle and slammed the door shut. A look that was born in pure arousal and lust crossed between them.

No words were said. None needed to be. Actions spoke louder than words.

Punk broke their intense stare as he turned from the Viper and turned the lock on the cubicle door confining them safely inside.

Before he could move from the door Randy was plastered onto him pushing him up against the wooden panel. Lips devoured his throat as they peppered kisses all over his stubbled neck and jaw. Strong hands took a rough hold on his hips as Randy ground his hips against his own. Punk smiled as he felt the mans hardened length against his own. The fact that he seemed to be eliciting the same feelings in Randy that the Viper was bringing out in him made his excitement surge even further.

Randy rested his forehead against Punk's and Punk got lost in the blue ocean of Randy's eyes. So often he thought they were stormy grey, but right there and then they were the most captivating sparkling ocean blue and he would happily drown in them. He was shocked at how his heart sped up as Randy smiled at him and he realised that Randy looked absolute beautiful when he beamed like that.

His attention drifted south as he felt Randy's fingers unzipping his pants and pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers. His cock hit the cold air and Punk couldn't help the soft gasp that came from his lips. He then noticed that while he was lost in the snake's hypnotic stare that Randy's hands had left his body and divested himself of his underwear too as they currently rested just above the knee along with Randy's pants.

Randy leant in close to the Voice of the Voiceless and nibbled on his earlobe before whispering seductively in his ear. 'Tell me what you want?'

Punk already knew what he wanted, but his words got stuck in his throat as light kisses ran over the tattoo behind his left ear. It was a sensitive spot, one that Randy had discovered when they were holed up in the hotel room together a few weeks back. Since then Randy had often focussed attention to that spot and every time Punk melted on the spot. This occasion didn't deviate from the form book.

'Speechless for once, baby?' Randy's voice rumbled softly in his ear.

Randy pulled away and smirked feeling incredibly happy with himself that he had got the mouth of CM Punk to actually shut up. As if Punk could read his thoughts the Second City Saint shot him a glare and flipped him off before nodding toward his neglected cock.

Randy stepped back into Punk's embrace and kissed him quickly on the lips before falling to his knees in front of Punk. Talented fingers wrapped loosely around the base of Punk's dick and caressed up and down the shaft teasingly.

Punk's hips shifted forward wanting more stimulation. Randy grinned up at his lover and kept eye contact as the tip of his tongue licked at the head of Punk's dick. Punk's head lolled backwards and his eyes slipped shut as he felt the head of his dick enveloped in Randy's moist mouth.

The Vipers nimble tongue worked expertly along the prominent vein that ran down the length and back up to the tip before taking more of the shaft into his mouth. Punk pumped his hips gently as a sign of encouragement and the movement was met with a favourable moan from Randy and his free hand latched onto Punk's naked hip.

Punk's own hands were twitching by his side needing something to grab hold of. They lifted and his palms ran over the shoulders of the man on his knees in front of him. One stopped and gripped the fabric of Orton's suit within his fist, whereas his right hand cradled the back of Randy's head. It didn't force Randy to move, it just rested their. Gliding with Orton, as an affectionate thumb ran over Randy's short hair.

Randy increased the pace in which his lips descended and reascended over Punk's dick, his smooth and slick cheeks now hollowing as they sucked delicately on the head on every upward motion. Randy's own dick leaked with pre-cum as his lover moaned his appreciation above him. Randy's hand fell from the base of Punk's member and his skilled fingers wrapped around his own shaft and he instantly commenced with a furious pace.

Moans got louder and echoed around the thankfully empty room. If anyone did enter it would be hard for the pair of them to explain, yet that notion wasn't one that figured into their lust addled brains at that particular moment in time.

Punk's senses were on overdrive as he could feel every inch of Randy's mouth and tongue worshipping him. He could smell the scent of Randy's aftershave and deodorant in the air. His balance faltered and he opened his legs wider, as wide as they would go with his clothing still around his thick thighs.

Randy curled his tongue around the crown of Punk's dick before licking a wet stripe down the underside of the thick shaft then licked and sucked on each of Punk's balls. The sexual exploration of Punk's body continued as Randy's hand slid from his hip, it made a rushed pit stop as Randy sucked on his own finger.

The slicked up digit ran along the crack of Punk's ass and he gasped as he felt the digit circle around his entrance. That sort of exploration Randy and he hadn't reached yet. Nor had they discussed it.

Punk wasn't adverse to the idea of eventually taking it to the ultimate level despite being apprehensive about it. But he knew that Randy wouldn't expect to go that far right then and there so he made no objection to Randy's advances.

Randy released Punk's balls and kissed his way back up the hot shaft that was glistening with his saliva and engulfed the length once more. His finger meanwhile still circled Punk's hole and slowly pushed through the tight ring and he sunk the digit into the velvet heat up to the knuckle.

Punk hissed at the invasion. Yet despite his inexperience in the area; in which he had none, Punk was finding Randy's finger inside him actually exciting. It was painful initially, but once Randy had gained entry and quickly thrust the sole finger in and out gently Punk started to feel more pleasure than pain. The feeling of having something up his ass was completely foreign, but the mere thought and of course the actual feeling were setting fireworks off in his head.

Punk's moans got louder, Randy's name fell from his lips over and over as he could feel the familiar feeling building up inside of him. The wet friction on his dick coupled with the finger plunging into his ass was becoming to much for him to withstand.

Randy meanwhile was furiously jacking his own cock and he too couldn't contain approving moans and groans. His dick was well lubed from the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip, and his wrist twisted on every upstroke just the way he liked it.

The vibrations of Randy's throat moaning around his dick caused an involuntary buck of Punk's hips and his shaft plunged deeper. Randy took the aggressive thrust in his stride and forced his throat to expand and take Punk in deep every time. His assault on Punk's ass intensified with renewed vigour and he curled the single digit inside Punk's tight channel. He finally hit the bundle of nerves that he had been hoping to find since he started the new sexual dynamic in their relationship just minutes earlier.

Punk's reaction to Randy finding his spot was that of an explosion. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body turned rigid as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through out his entire body.

Randy didn't relent from his sexual onslaught. He retained his pace and friction on Punk's dick whilst hitting Punk's spot every time he entered him. He was driving Punk nearer and nearer to the edge. Randy was aware of it.

Now that they had several sexual encounters under their belts he had begun to understand the warning signs. Punk's moans get louder and more expletives fire out of his mouth. His legs tremble. And the hand that usually caresses his hair turns ferocious as nails dig into his scalp.

Each one of those warning sides were activated and Randy felt Punk's shaft pulse against his tongue. It twitched within the wet cavern of his mouth before Punk shot his load down the Vipers willing throat.

As Punk reached his climax Randy kept his finger pushed against Punk's prostate. He felt the man shiver, shudder and quiver above him as more and more of Punk's orgasm emptied into his mouth.

When Punk had gave Randy all he could give Orton licked from the base to the tip of Punk's cock. He removed his finger from the Second City Saint while he still jerked his own rock hard dick as his climax continued to build.

A shattered and spent Punk managed to pull up his boxers and pants back up before sliding down the door utterly exhausted. He opened his eyes to see the man that had just given him the best blow job of his life with his lip between his teeth.

Punk smiled. Randy always bit his lip when he was close. Punk reached out his hand covering Randy's as he matched the Vipers pace. Randy let out a whimper as he felt Punk's hand on his manhood. Punk shifted closer as he rose to his knees, mirroring Orton's position. He peppered kisses along Randy's jugular and sucked on the soft tanned skin.

Randy crashed into the wall of his orgasm without slowing and his cum spilled out of him and over Punk and his conjoined hands. 'Fuck! Holy shit!' He gasped breathlessly.

Punk looked down at the mess Orton had made before diving in for a long, slow, passionate, tender kiss.

Suddenly the door to the men's room creaked open and both men immediately pulled away from the other. They smiled at one another as the two men that had entered engaged in casual conversation, as Punk and Randy assumed they were urinating.

From the sounds of their voices both Punk and Randy identified them as Cena and Triple H. If they were found in a cubicle together that would certainly put a spanner in the works of their budding romance. Especially if they were discovered by the bosses son in law.

So both men kept deathly quiet, and thankfully both of their colleagues eventually made their exit and returned to the Hall of Fame after party.

As soon as he heard the door close Randy raised Punk's chin with his hand and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'That was amazing.'

Punk nodded his agreement. 'It certainly was. You know you look good on your knees.' He teased.

'Oh really?' Randy asked as he got off his sore and aching joints. The hard tiles of the bathroom floor had not been kind to his limbs.

Punk also got to his feet and unlocked the cubicle door. 'Yeah. You obviously enjoyed it.' Punk smirked as his gaze drew down to Randy softening penis.

Randy laughed as he tucked himself back in and zipped up his pants. 'I did. So did you by the sounds of it. You get dangerously loud when you're about to cum.' Randy teased back.

'What can I say, I let my appreciation be heard.' Punk shrugged as he kissed the Vipers lips again before emerging from the cubicle to go over to the sink to wash his hands.

Randy followed him and did the same. 'Well all I'm saying is its a good thing loud music is playing out there or else they would have got quite the show.' Randy grinned at Punk in the mirror and Punk shook his head as he could feel a blush rise up.

'Fuck off!' He replied light-heartedly as he dried his hands. 'By the way, what is it with you dragging me into bathrooms? You're pure filth Randal.' Punk asked as he alluded to their first and their most recent sexual encounter, as he leant up against the wall waiting for Randy to dry his hands.

'I didn't hear you complaining whilst I was doing the dragging.' Randy smirked. 'Maybe you're just as filthy. And what is with you reverting back to Randal, Phil?'

Punk narrowed his eyes at the Apex Predator as he called him by his real name. 'Phil, huh?'

Randy nodded. 'It's only fair. But answer my question.' Randy asked.

'I wanted too.' Punk said nonchalantly.

'Because you know it pisses me off?' Randy smiled knowing that Punk liked to push people's buttons.

Punk shrugged. 'I think it's maybe, kind of changed.' Punk stammered.

'Changed?' Randy queried with curiosity.

'Yeah. To more of an endearment, maybe. I don't know.' Punk shifted uncomfortably as he tried to be honest with the man beside him.

Randy smiled. 'I think I can live with that.' He placed a brief kiss on Punk's lips.

Punk pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to the bathroom door. 'It wouldn't matter if you couldn't.' Punk smirked. He gripped the handle to the heavy bathroom door, but then paused. 'Randal?'

Randy looked at him as he followed him to exit the bathroom. 'Yeah.'

'Don't call me Phil, Randal.' Punk's trademark smirk reappeared as he opened the door and left Orton to shake his head and chuckle at the obvious double standard.

...

Randy threw his jacket onto a nearby chair then fell backwards onto his bed, pulling Punk on top of him. Both Superstars were exhausted from the long night. It was gone 4am and Randy could barely keep his eyes open. Even Punk with his chronic insomnia was feeling like he could happily sleep for a few hours.

Randy wrapped his arms around Punk's shoulders as the Straight Edge Superstar rested his head on the Vipers broad chest.

'Hey, Punk? Do you think we'll end up in the Hall of Fame one day?' Randy asked.

'Of course you will.' Punk answered without hesitation. 'No doubt.'

Randy waited for Punk to answer whether he thought he would, but Punk stayed silent. 'Do you think you'll end up there one day?' Randy questioned again.

'In the Hall of Fame?' Punk asked between yawns.

'Yeah.' Randy confirmed as he ran his palms over Punk's upper back.

'I doubt it.' Punk replied flatly. 'I mean, I'm not exactly Vince Mcmahon's favourite guy remember? After all I don't look like a wrestler. I look more like a hobo.' Punk chuckled into Randy's chest. He never could understand Vince's logic. Not that he would ever want to.

'Not tonight you don't.' Randy whispered as he kissed the top of Punk's forehead.

'You're not meant to agree that I look like a hobo at all, Randal!' Punk feigned offence as he raised his head from Orton's chest to look at him in disgust.

'Well, you pull off the hobo look well. You're a sexy hobo.' Randy laughed, as he ran the back of his hand over Punk's cheek.

Punk narrowed his eyes at him, but couldn't help the slight smile that Randy brought out in him. 'Am I going to have to stop you from going after tramps all over the United States of America? Do hobo's turn you on?' Punk joked, but wore a serious tone and look.

'No. Only you. Just you. And that goes for everyone, not just hobo's.' Randy answered with shocking sincerity and candour.

Punk forgot to breath as he revelled in the words that had just been spoken by the usually closed off and emotionally crippled Viper. Not that he was any better mind you. 'Good. You're the only one for me too.' Punk replied as he avoided looking into Orton's eyes.

Punk rolled off of Randy and perched on the edge of the bed. He rifled through his pants pockets, but came up empty. He reached out for his discarded suit jacket and went through the pockets until he located his iPhone. He glanced at the time to see it was 4.10am.

'I should go.' Punk mumbled as he rubbed at his sore and tired eyes.

Randy wrapped his arms around him from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder. 'Or you could stay?' Randy suggested.

Punk looked over his shoulder to see Orton staring right at him. Right into his eyes. 'You want me to stay?'

Randy nodded.

'All right.' Punk didn't need much convincing. 'But no funny business. I'm actually tired for once in my life and I might get a few minutes of sleep. If I'm lucky.' Punk stated as another yawn escaped him.

'Agreed.' Randy nodded again, he too was tired and wasn't even sure he could manage anymore sexual exploits with Punk that night. Well, he probably could...but sleep was certainly needed.

Randy also felt happy that the tables had turned. For once he wouldn't have to be apart from Punk. Lita would instead. That thought alone made the Vipers smile shine.

Both men stripped down to their underwear and Punk got under the covers as Randy got both of them a glass of water. Randy passed Punk his glass and gulped down some water also before setting the glass on the bedside cabinet that was on his side of the bed.

'Randy?' Punk asked as he turned away from the Apex Predator and got comfortable in the bed.

'Yeah?' Randy responded.

'Hit the light.'

Randy walked over to the light switch and plunged the room into black. He cautiously made his way back over to the bed, hoping not to trip over any of Punk and his divested clothes.

Once he felt the mattress under his out stretched hand he slipped under the covers and moved in close to Punk's radiating body heat. His arm draped over Punk's stomach and his forehead rested against the back of Punk's neck. Punk pushed back against him and took Randy's hand in his and their legs tangled together as they were finally lulled to sleep.

...


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 is here! Enjoy. And another BIG thank you for all the support. :)**

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CM Punk's eyes flickered open as he woke up to another sun filled day in Miami. He reached out blindly in the vague direction of the bedside cabinet hoping to locate his iPhone. After swatting at the lamp, a glass half full of water and his wallet, he finally found his phone. He brought it closer to his face so he could read the time.

It was 8.07am.

By all accounts Punk categorised that as a great nights sleep. Well, it was by his standards anyway. Less than four hours rest for most people would be catastrophic, but for Punk it was just the way his life ran.

Once the sleep induced fog started to clear he realised that a heavy and tattooed arm was draped over his equally tattooed chest. A contented smile arose as he remembered Randy was there beside him that night. A brief thought of Lita came to his mind. How would he explain his absence from their room last night? He shrugged any care away though when he realised she was so drunk last night that it would be doubtful she would even be aware that he wasn't there.

His eyes drifted and washed over their tattoos, and the way that Randy's ink ran into his own created the most amazing visual. Punk smiled brightly at the thought of it being a beautiful piece of art. A masterpiece even.

Punk rotated slightly as he tried to get a better look at Randy. He shifted slowly and cautiously in an attempt not to disturb the sleeping man. Randy remained in his restful state, with his arm and leg still positioned over Punk. They were essentially a tangle of limbs and bed sheets.

Randy's soft breaths were tingling against Punk's neck and jaw sending goose bumps over the skin of the Second City Saint. Punk peered down to see Orton looking completely relaxed and peaceful within his arms.

Punk attempted to stifle a chuckle, but his body shook marginally still. He couldn't help but laugh at the scene. Here he was in bed half naked with an equally half naked Randy Orton wrapped up in his arms.

It was a scene Punk was sure would never be played out over four months ago, yet here they stood. Or led in fact. After years of hatred and detest for one another they had somehow strayed into new and uncharted territory and were no longer mortal enemies.

Now they were...Punk didn't even know what they were.

Randy and he had never officially classified their relationship as anything. Recently that thought had plagued Punk's mind though, he wondered if they should ultimately define what they were. He was reluctant to bring up the subject with the Viper however. He had seen major changes in Randy lately when it came to them, but Punk was still wary of Randy freaking out on him again. He was adamant that no matter what he wouldn't let Randy's insecurities make them return to square one all over again.

Sometimes he felt like he was the one that was constantly steering the ship. He was navigating their way through all the rough patches. Randy had many instances of retreating away from him due to his worries and insecurities, but deep down Punk had those same emotions and thoughts running through him too.

More times than he would admit he had the inclination to bury his feelings for Orton and banish everything that had happened between them from his memories. But there was a difference between Randy and himself. Where as Randy needed Punk to reassure him, Punk resolved his own inner turmoil by himself in solitude. That fact may have hindered their progression, as to Randy it seemed that Punk just came to terms with all these new and raw feelings without much fuss, despite that not being the case in the slightest.

Punk kissed Randy on the forehead as the man still slept peacefully beside him. They had come a long way since their attraction had started to deepen. After many arguments and fights, after many stops and starts it actually seemed like they were in a solid place. Yet as Punk mulled that over he had a sense of dread lingering in the pit of his stomach. He had thought that before, and usually when he least expected it the rug was ripped out from underneath him.

Ever the optimist!

To be fair in most circumstances Punk was a positive person, but when it came to relationships he didn't have such a great track record. And so far Randy and his volatile attachment had followed the pattern. Albeit the glaring differential from the pattern this time was the fact that Punk's current lover wasn't female, he was incredibly male. But Punk didn't think that would tip the scale.

Although history doesn't always repeat itself...

Punk's eyes were still enthralled with Randy's relaxed features and he was startled when Randy's voice rumbled.

'Stop staring at me.' Randy mumbled into the crook of Punk's neck.

'I wasn't staring.' Punk protested.

'I saw you staring, Punk.' Randy replied as his head lifted from the pillows and looked down and into Punk's gaze.

'How could you see when you were asleep?' Punk asked.

'Maybe I wasn't asleep.' Randy suggested, as he smiled at Punk.

'Not fair, Orton.' Punk said as he shook his head at the Apex Predator.

Randy shrugged before leaning forward and kissing Punk softly on the lips. 'What's the time?'

Punk sat up and reached out for his iPhone like he had done previously. 'It's just gone half eight.' He answered.

Randy yawned as he too sat up and leant back against the headboard, mirroring Punk's position. 'It was a good night last night, huh?'

'Yeah. I enjoyed it. Well apart from when I got stuck talking to the Iron Shiek and he started to talk about his sex life. That was awkward. Not to mention that it has scarred me for life.' Punk let out a disgusted sigh, and shook himself in an attempt to rid himself of the unwanted memory.

'Where the hell was I when this went down?' Randy questioned.

'I have no idea. But you should be thankful you missed it.' Punk stated as he rested his head on Randy's broad shoulder.

'Are you sure that wasn't the highlight of your night?' Randy jested as he nudged Punk jokingly.

Punk chuckled before shaking his head. 'Definitely not. My highlight was with you in the bathroom actually.' Punk smirked as his mind flashed back to the cubicle, instantly igniting a spark within him.

'Oh, really?' Randy smiled. 'Mine too.'

'I should think so too, Orton!' Punk replied.

'How are you feeling about tonight?' Randy queried, as the conversation turned more serious. He knew Punk was determined to make his match with Jericho one to remember.

'I'm feeling good. I know that Chris and I can put on a great match. I just hope I don't blow the opportunity.'

'You won't. You'll steal the show.' Randy buoyed him on, and he placed a quick kiss on the mess that was Punk's early morning hair.

'We'll see.' Punk replied. 'How about you?'

'I'm looking forward to it. I may not be in the most high profile match on the card, but I think it will be good.' Randy stated confidently.

Randy soon after announced he was going for a shower and after he retrieved his towel and his bathroom accessories he disappeared out of the room. Punk waited on the bed for about five minutes before getting up and following Randy's footsteps, stripping himself out of his boxers as he went.

As he opened the door steam billowed out. The steam was dense, but he could just about make out Randy's silhouette in the shower with his back to him. Punk reached the shower door and he reached out blindly so he could slide the door across so he could gain entry. As he did so, Randy heard the door and spun around to see Punk enter the shower with him and slide the door closed.

Randy quirked an eyebrow. 'Can I help you?'

Punk had his trademark smirk. 'No, I thought I could help you. Especially as it's your birthday.'

Randy let out a shocked chuckle. 'I didn't think you knew.' He said, as he locked his arms around Punk's waist as soon as the man got near him.

'I'm a man of misdirection and mystery.' Punk claimed as he kissed along Randy's chiselled jaw.

Randy smiled. 'I can vouch for that.'

Randy lifted Punk's chin and kissed him, and as tongues met Punk pushed Randy backwards until he met the chilled tiled wall. Fingers ghosted over Randy's chest and abdomen then stopped as it reached his cock that was already begging for attention.

Nimble fingers ran along the thick shaft, the pad of Punk's thumb rubbed over the head smearing the pre-cum down Randy's length. The light, feathery caresses from Punk was driving Randy crazy. He needed to feel more. Much more.

'Punk, please.' Randy whispered huskily as he nibbled on Punk's ear.

Punk hissed as he felt Randy's teeth bite at his ear, and his fingers gripped at the base of Randy's dick and he started to slowly jerk Randy off just as the Viper wished.

Although now that Randy had more contact he wanted it faster and harder and he whispered his desires into Punk's ear, before licking all around Punk's ear and kissing around the tattoo that he had there.

As Punk's hand sped up on Randy's erection, Randy started to move his hips into Punk's fist aswell. Randy's head lolled back against the wall and Punk instantly went for the Vipers exposed throat. He ravished it with kisses, licks and gentle bites as Randy's moans commenced.

Hot water cascaded down on them, rivulets of water ran haphazardly over their skin. Both men started to follow the tiny streams of water with their tongues, relishing licking fresh water off each others skin as well as the shivers that their actions brought out in one another.

Punk's mind flashed back to their last sexual act in the cubicle at the Hall of Fame after party, and one act stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a totally new experience for him, but he had enjoyed every single second of it, and without further thought he wanted Randy to experience it too.

Punk's left hand took a generous squeeze of Randy's ass before a single digit slid in between the tight cheeks. It ran in concentric circles around Randy's hole and as he applied more pressure and his finger slipped inside he heard a quiet grunt escape from Orton.

Randy started to melt as Punk's finger pushed in and out of him and that coupled with Punk jerking him off expertly was driving the man crazy. Randy's fingers ran through Punk's damp hair and as he gripped it almost painfully he pulled Punk to him crashing his mouth onto the Chicagoans.

Punk sped up both of his actions determined to make this a birthday present to remember for Randy. Randy started to thrash around and bang the back of his head against the ceramic tiles as he felt the heat boil in the pit of his stomach.

Punk thrust his index finger in harder than before curling the digit when it was fully inside Randy's tight channel. Randy yelled out a cry of Punk's name as he felt Punk hit his prostate for the first time. Now that Punk had found the little bundle of nerves he never relented. Every time he plunged into Randy he would hit Randy's prostate and Randy's moans of approval got louder and longer.

Randy was struggling to stay upright as he felt his dick twitch within Punk's palm. On every upstroke Punk would twist slightly and his thumb would caress the slit at the tip. Randy was being driven to the edge at full speed, and before he could even announce that he was coming, his orgasm rushed out of him.

Punk looked down between Randy and his body to see cum spurt out of Randy and hit both of their stomachs as well as covering his hand. Meanwhile, his finger was trapped inside Randy as the Vipers ass clenched sporadically around it as his orgasm tore through him.

As Randy's climax finished he fell forward falling into Punk's chest, his sweaty forehead resting on Punk's wet shoulder.

Punk placed a kiss on Randy's neck. 'Doing okay, babe?'

'That was amazing.' Randy replied, his voice muffled by Punk's body.

Punk removed his finger from Randy's ass and his hand from the rapidly softening cock. Randy found the energy to stand back on his own two feet and was met with Punk's tongue licking the cum off his hand. Randy's eyes widened at the erotic sight and he could already feel his penis reacting.

Punk smirked at the look on Randy's face, a mixture of shock and arousal. He tugged the man tightly against him and kissed him forcibly and he pushed his tongue into Randy's mouth and both men moaned as Randy could taste his own essence on Punk's tongue.

Parting breathlessly Randy smirked and ran his palms down the small of Punk's back and then clutched at his ass. The Apex Predator wrapped Punk in an embrace and pulled him flush against his own body, trapping Punk's erection between their stomachs.

Randy kissed Punk lightly on the lips before staring deep into those increasingly familiar eyes. 'That was amazing. I never imagined I'd enjoy that.'

Punk smiled and nodded his understanding. 'Me either. Feels damn good though.'

Randy nodded. 'Makes me wonder...' Randy's started before he paused.

'Makes you wonder what?' Punk queried as his hands travelled over Randy's back.

'Makes me wonder about the next step.' Randy answered an almost nervous and pensive look on his features.

'That would be a big step.' Punk admitted, as he followed Randy's train of thought.

Randy nodded. 'Yeah. I can understand you being hesitant about it. I don't even know if I'm ready to do that to you.'

Punk suddenly fell quiet. He looked away from Randy and he started to feel aggravated at Randy's last statement. From Randy's words he had already designated their roles if they were to kick their relationship up a notch. The assumption that he would be the one on the receiving end of their hypothetical sex had irked Punk. How come he had to be the one to be penetrated. He wasn't the only one to admit mere seconds before that he had enjoyed the new experience.

Punk was brought out of his own thoughts as Randy started to palm his erection. He was quick to pull away and slide the door open.

'Where are you going?' Randy asked, as Punk stepped out of the shower.

'I'm not in the mood anymore. I feel a little light headed.' Punk mumbled as he picked up a towel.

'But I haven't had chance to thank you for my birthday present.' Randy replied seductively.

But Punk didn't respond. He walked straight out of the bathroom leaving Randy to contemplate what on earth had just happened.

...

Wrestlemania 28 was in full swing and the crowd was hot. The show had been great so far, except for the ridiculous booking of the World Championship match opener.

Punk was in gorilla position, his match was next and after seeing Triple H and Undertaker absolutely kill it in their Hell in a Cell Match earlier he felt a little apprehensive about his match now. The butterflies in his stomach now felt like eagles as Jericho's music hit.

He had been alone in the back with headphones on blocking everyone else out so far that night. He had been stretching, running and jumping up and off crates. The only time he wasn't active was when he stopped to watch Randy's match with Kane.

It was a good match, unfortunately Randy he wouldn't pick up a win on his birthday as Kane was booked to go over with a Chokeslam from the top turnbuckle. He wished Randy could've had the win, but he wasn't too angry due to the respect he had for the Big Red Machine. Both men deserved a big win at the biggest show of the year really. It was just a shame only one could be victorious.

Punk hadn't seen too much of Randy since they had arrived at the arena. Every superstar and diva were busy. Meeting and greeting people, going over their matches and the show layout and more. In someways Punk was thankful for the distance from Randy after the abysmal end to their joint shower that morning.

Punk was miffed at Randy's designation of their roles if they ever went that far, but the way he bailed and had been distant with Randy for the rest of that morning he knew wasn't fair. He already had plans to make it up to Randy once Wrestlemania was over, but for now he had to be one hundred percent focussed on his match.

Just as he neared the curtain, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder to see Randy stood there. Randy knew how important this match, this chance, this moment was for Punk and he wanted Punk to know that he believed in him.

'You'll do great out there, Punk.' Randy brushed the back of his fingers over Punk's hand, that being the only sign of affection he could show the WWE Champion in the bustling gorilla position. 'Good luck.'

Punk rolled his eyes. 'Luck is for losers, Randal.' Punk walked up the stairs then stopped at the top. He looked back down and saw Randy still stood there watching him. He smiled. 'Thanks. You were great out there tonight.'

Randy returned the smile. He then nodded to the entrance as the static signalled Punk's theme song. 'Go kill it.'

Not many words needed to be said. The look that lingered between them spoke volumes. There was more to them than simple acquaintances. More to them than friendship.

Punk felt the rush of the crowd hit him just as hard as what Randy's gaze was hitting him. He felt on top of the world in that moment. This was his moment. And he was going to savour every single second of it.

...

Punk was surrounded by his colleagues in the locker room as one after another congratulated him on an amazing match. Triple H, Undertaker and Shawn Michaels gave him their congratulations also, and most seemed to agree that along with the End of an Era Hell in A Cell bout Punk vs Jericho was the show stealer.

Randy watched from afar seeing Punk soak up the adulation and congratulations that was richly deserved. He wasn't sure in that moment who was smiling bigger Punk or himself. He was so happy for Punk. Not to mention proud. He stood from the bench and made his way away from the crowd catching Punk's eye intentionally as he did so. He wanted Punk to know where he was so as soon as Punk could get some distance from the guys he would come and find him.

Randy had moved to the far end of the locker room near the showers. It was baron down there as most of the guys had already had their matches and showered. Randy himself was already dressed after competing early on in the show. He was happy with his match, naturally he would've preferred to be in the winners column on the biggest show of the year, but nevertheless he was pleased with his night.

As for Punk's match, Randy's eyes never left the monitor that was in the locker room. He was on the edge of his seat the entire time, he seemed more nervous than Punk. He was hoping so much that the match was a huge success. Punk wanted it so much, he had worked so hard for so many years, he had earned this moment and to see Punk out there wrestling his heart out, giving it his all and having a stellar match pleased Randy greatly.

Randy leant back against the wall and he smiled as he finally heard footsteps approach. A tired and sweaty Punk emerged, and Randy instantly reached out for him and dragged him into a dark secluded corner and kissed him passionately. Punk dropped the coveted WWE title from his grasp; it crashed to the ground beneath them with a clunk, as Punk gripped onto Randy's tee-shirt instead.

His hands now had more important things to claim as his.

Randy smiled against Punk's lips. 'You were awesome. Match of the night.' Randy declared as he whispered ever so quietly in Punk's ear.

'Thanks.' Punk replied as he kissed Randy's lips.

'It's true.' Randy stated.

'I don't mean for that. At least not just for that. I meant for before the match at the curtain. Seeing you there, having you there...it meant a lot.' Punk clarified as he stared deeply into the Vipers eyes hoping to convey just how much it had meant to him deep down.

Randy shrugged. 'You mean a lot to me.'

Punk's soft lips met Randy's again as their tongues tangled together as they explored each others mouths. A moan from Punk was swallowed up by Randy and as they parted Punk rested his sweaty forehead against Orton's.

'Come back to Chicago with me?' Punk asked.

A look of surprise wrote itself over Randy's features. 'What?'

'After Smackdown Tuesday night, I want you to come home with me to Chicago. You can stay for a couple of days before house shows at the weekend.' Punk confirmed his suggestion. 'Please?'

'Are you sure?' Randy asked. Being invited to stay with Punk was an interesting development to Randy and he was eager to accept, but he wanted Punk to be completely certain it was what he wanted, not a 'on the spur of the moment' deal.

'Yeah, I'm sure.' Punk stated. He thought Randy's hesitation was a bad sign, but as a smile greeted him he couldn't help but smile too.

'I would love to stay at your house with you.' Randy answered with a genuine grin.

'Good.'

Punk kissed Randy in a breath stealing kiss again.

It had been one hell of a Wrestlemania for Punk. It had been one hell of a night for him. And now having Randy staying with him in Chicago for a few days was the icing on top of the cake.

CM Punk had tentative plans for the days that Randy would be staying with him. Or really just one plan. Not plural. Singular. One sole plan. And it filled him with a mixture of nerves, dread and excitement.

However, the true test would be whether or not he could go through with it. And more importantly voice it to Randy Orton.

...


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello! Sorry for the wait with this chapter, I've been ridiculously busy lately. Thank you for all the reviews and I hope you like this chapter. We are in Chicago!**

* * *

'Welcome to my humble abode.' CM Punk smiled as he gestured into his Chicago apartment that he had just opened the door too.

Randy followed Punk through the doorway. His instant thought was Punk had a decent home. He wandered about looking around in wonder has he explored the new environment. When he stopped he found himself in the kitchen in front of the refrigerator.

Punk meanwhile returned from his bedroom after ditching his luggage in there. As he walked back into the main living area he questioningly looked over at Randy. His inquisitive mind was questioning why Randy was currently peering inside his refrigerator and smiling like an idiot at the same time.

'Randy? Why are you looking in my refrigerator? Are you hungry?' Punk questioned.

Randy stood back up straight and closed the door to the refrigerator. He shook his head. 'No, I'm not hungry.'

'So, why are you looking so intently in there?' Punk asked he sat down on his couch that was shadowed by a huge plasma screen television that was attached to the feature wall.

'I was looking to see if there were any WWE championships still in there.' Randy chuckled as he set his luggage down by the front door.

Punk couldn't hide the genuine smile that Randy's words brought out in him. He never thought Randy knew what he did last year after Money in the Bank ppv. Once the event was over and he had walked out of the WWE with the title as hostage he had posted a photo of the prestigious championship in his fridge. It had become a talking point instantly. But Punk never imagined that Randy Orton would've took much notice of it. After all, if Punk rewound a year Orton would certainly not be in his apartment. They were barely on speaking terms, except for an occasional chin jut and mumbled greetings.

Punk got to his feet and picked up Randy's belongings from where he had dropped them and disappeared up the stairs back to his bedroom to put Orton's luggage next to his own.

Meanwhile, Randy recommenced his exploration. He travelled around the main living area, thinking to himself that Punk's place certainly had style. A unique syle. CM Punk style. He then noticed the balcony. He wandered over to the doors that would enable him to reach it, but they were locked. He pressed his cheek against the glass trying to see as much of the balcony as he could. The moon was high in the sky and it illuminated the balcony and Randy instantly thought that it must be amazing to sit out there and watch the sunset.

'It's my favourite place.'

Randy was startled by Punk's voice as he hadn't heard him return. He was too caught up in seeing Punk's apartment. 'The balcony?' Randy asked.

Punk nodded as he stood beside Randy at the glass doors. Punk looked out into the dead of the night and from the reflection of the glass he could see Randy's ocean blue eyes watching him. Punk turned to him. 'What?'

'Nothing.' Randy smiled. He proceeded to look from one side to the other taking in all the details of the rooms. 'Your place is real nice.'

Punk joined Orton and looked around the room. 'Yeah, it is. Just a shame I don't see much of it.'

That was the life of a WWE superstar. With the hectic work schedule you barely even saw your own home. Which it really wasn't your home. It may be your fixed address, but your home was somewhere way you lay your head down every night. Somewhere you feel safe. In reality WWE wrestlers were travelling so much and for so long that the roads were more of a home than their actual houses or apartments.

But it was a life they chose. A decision that few regret. The passion and desire to succeed within the wrestling business makes many men and women happy to have the road as their home.

Punk walked back over to his couch and sat down on it. He removed his Chicago Cubs cap and threw it onto the nearby table. He groaned as he felt his muscles cry with agony. He needed some serious rest, and despite loving the wrestling world he lived in he was happy to be able to be home for a few days and rest his weary head in his own bed.

Randy picked up the Chicago Cubs cap from the table. 'Do you ever go anywhere without this cap?' He asked with jest.

Randy looked at the worn cap that looked like it had been through the ringer once or twice in its lifetime.

Punk looked over the back of the couch and narrowed his eyes at his lover. 'Do you ever go anywhere without a crate load of spray tan and baby oil?' Punk sarcastically replied.

Randy flipped him the middle finger, before getting caught off guard with an unexpected yawn. He had been getting progressively more tired during the plane ride to Chicago, but sleep alluded him on the plane when he had tried to take a nap, but now his body was exhausted and was begging for a reprieve.

Punk noticed the tired Viper. 'Do you want to go to bed?'

Randy glanced at the time. It was nearly two am. 'Yeah, I'm beat. What about you?'

'I'm not quite there yet.' Punk confirmed. His insomnia often ostracised him from the sleeping masses. Although he thought that tonight he may get a few hours rest under his belt because he was feeling the slight touch of tiredness brushing him. 'But you should go.'

Randy was about to object to the suggestion, but Punk took hold of his hand and lead him up the stairs to his bedroom. Randy felt guilty whenever he left Punk wide awake. Especially now considering they were in Punk's own home and he was about to sleep in the mans bed without him.

Nevertheless Randy soon found himself curling up in the soft sheets of Punk's bed unable to keep his eyes open any longer. Punk returned downstairs after ensuring the Viper that he would catch up on a few episodes of Breaking Bad before joining him.

...

The door opened and Randy who was slowly escaping from his slumber smelt the heavy scent of food and it rushed him out of his sleepy haze that extra bit faster. As he opened his eyes he saw the figure of the Second City Saint come into view. He was holding a tray. And by the smell of it he had cooked breakfast.

'Morning.' Punk said, as he stood beside Orton.

'Hey.' Randy croaked, his voice still hoarse from his sleep. 'What's the time?'

'Almost 9.30.' Punk answered as he set the tray onto Randy's lap as he sat up.

'How long have you been up?' Randy asked as he looked over the food that was on the tray. Pancakes with syrup. Randy was immediately salivating at the food. Well that and the sight of Punk in just his boxers who was sat right beside him and smelling so delicious. Randy had often wondered what Punk's scent was. Eventually he had reached the conclusion that the scent could only be described as pure Punk. And it made him delirious.

'Only an hour.' Punk answered as he handed a knife and fork to Orton, as well as holding his own cutlery in his hands.

'When did you come to bed?' Randy asked as he took hold of the cutlery ready to dig into the scrumptious pancakes that Punk had made for the both of them.

'A little past four. I thought I woke you up. I tripped over our luggage on the way to the bed.' Punk said, and added a disgruntled shake of his head at the clumsy incident last night.

'No, you didn't wake me.' Randy confirmed as he cut up a pancake and chuckled at the mental image of Punk tripping up in the darkness.

Punk was surprised. He thought for sure that he disturbed the man when he came to bed. It wasn't exactly a quiet crash that he was involved in. Not to mention the swearing that followed it. Punk was so used to being alone in his home that he forgot he had company momentarily. Once he remembered Randy was asleep in his bed he had instantly felt guilty for shouting out swear words at a rather high volume.

The main reason for Punk's surprise though was because as soon as he climbed under the sheets and got comfortable on the soft mattress, Randy had instantly turned into his direction and threw an arm and leg over him and pulled him tightly into his body heat.

Punk smiled at the memory. He wasn't sure why. He didn't even know if that subconscious display from Randy meant anything. But nevertheless he smiled. And it was a smile that was hard to remove.

Randy made an appreciative noise as he ate more of the pancakes on his plate. 'Wow, these are good.'

'You sound surprised.' Punk said in between bites.

'No. Well maybe. But I'm definitely impressed at the great service. You are well trained, Punk.' Randy grinned his cheeks bulging with pancake in his mouth.

Punk chuckled. 'Well this is a one time thing. Don't expect anymore breakfasts in bed. Or dinners. Or suppers'

'What?! I'm important. You need to service me!' Randy smirked as he locked eyes with the Straight Edge Superstar.

Punk rolled his eyes and scoffed. 'I'm pretty sure you're trying to put across a crude double entendre there, Randal. And let me tell you it was lame.' Punk jibed, as he smirked back at the Apex Predator.

'You're not going to service me at all?' Randy asked, as his fingers glided up the exposed thigh of Punk.

Punk watched as the long slender fingers disappeared momentarily under the fabric of his boxers. The simplest touch from Randy sent shivers throughout his body and it stoked a fire within his gut. 'Maybe I will. It depends.'

'Depends on what?' Randy queried as the tips of his fingers grazed Punk's balls.

The instant roll of Punk's hips for more contact paved the way for the direction in which they were headed. Punk's piercing lust filled stare shot through Randy like a bullet. 'It depends on how you thank me for my services first.' Punk answered.

'I can think of many ways to thank you.' Randy boasted as his fingers travelled up Punk's semi erect member.

'You best thank me for the breakfast I made then.' Punk all but moaned the words as Randy's fingers gripped the base of his shaft and Punk grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck and kissed him with fervour.

If this was going to be his regular wake up call whilst staying at Punk's apartment, Randy wished he could be there everyday.

...

After a day of travelling around Chicago, in which both men tried to not be recognised, Punk had shown Randy some of his old haunts and favourite places. Randy could see crystal clear how much Punk loved Chicago. It was his home.

It was now nearing 10.30pm and after dinner they had decided to settle down to watch a movie. Punk had let Randy choose and the Viper had chose Thor. A wise pick in Punk's estimation.

Somewhere in the duration of the movie blockbuster they had led down on the couch with Randy on his back on the edge of the couch, and Punk on the inside. He had rested his head on Randy's chest and Randy's arms embraced him.

In fact they had quickly found themselves in that position. They were less than a quarter of the way through when Randy's hand had started to wander and stroke over Punk's forearm before entwining their fingers together and holding hands. That was followed by Punk sliding closer and dropping his head onto Orton's shoulder. That was then succeeded by the position they now shared.

Punk had often during the course of the movie found the sound and sight of the film before him drifting away. Everything around him faded to black. All that remained was Randy and himself. All he could hear was Randy's soft breaths. The smell of Randy's deodorant and after shave. The feel of Randy's fingers gliding over his bicep and his chest rising and falling with every intake of oxygen. The sight of a little bit of Randy's abdomen uncovered due to the black tee-shirt that he was wearing riding up. Punk was caught up in a web made up of Randy Orton. It was a full scale attack on his senses.

For some reason it made him feel uncomfortable. It was a strange notion. They were in his house, his home turf and he was the one that seemed uneasy. Randy on the other hand seemed remarkably relaxed and content.

Punk knew he was falling. And he was falling from a great height with no parachute. No saviour was going to swoop in for a last second save. He didn't really want anyone to come to the rescue really. He wanted to crash and smash into the pavement. But was he scared? Damn right!

He knew what he wanted. He knew who he wanted. And he knew if he took that gigantic step it would mean that whatever it was that was between Randy and himself would then be an official relationship. It had to be. To him it already was. An unspoken and unconfirmed official relationship.

But if they reached the next level it could be nothing else other than that level of commitment. Actually voicing his commitment though was something that he had never actually done before in his life, not in a romantic attachment.

Yet if Randy and he progressed to the next step he needed to know that Randy was on the same page. If not, the next level was unattainable.

He had already broken a cardinal rule that he lived by once. Although seeing as though Randy and he hadn't had a chat about being official, technically, in a way Punk may have broken that rule more than once. But there was no way he was going to break it again, not when it came down to the serious nature of the next step. No, if he did that he wouldn't be breaking the rule he'd be smashing it into pieces and setting it a flame.

Sound and colour returned to Punk's reality as Randy shifted beneath him. Punk looked over at the huge television screen to see the credits rolling. How long had he been lost in his own world?

'I love that movie.' Randy said, as he stretched his long frame out over the arms of the couch at each end.

Punk too affirmed his love for the Thor movie as he reached for the remote control. He ejected the disc and returned it to the dvd case before placing it back onto the stack of dvds that he had.

Punk's nerves were making him tremble. His legs were barely able to hold him upright. He so wanted to voice what his head and heart were screaming at him to say.

Suddenly tattooed arms locked around his slender waist from behind and soft kisses started to move over his neck and jaw. His equally decorated arms latched over Randy's and he leaned into the Vipers frame.

One of Orton's hands slipped under the grey Colt Cabana tee-shirt and soft caresses worked over his stomach. Randy's breath ghosted over his ear and it only served to increase the ferocity of his trembling body.

Inadvertently Randy was making the situation more difficult. If Punk brought it up now, it could create the wrong impression and they could head in that direction right there and then and Punk suddenly felt overwhelmed.

He wasn't ready.

Slender, agile fingers started to trace the letters of the Straight Edge tattoo on Punk's stomach and then Randy's sultry words hit his ear. 'Do you want to go to bed?'

The implication was obvious.

Punk started to panic. He felt like he was being ripped to shreds by his own inner demons. He was working himself up into a frenzy and he felt a serious lack of oxygen as Randy nibbled on his earlobe.

He knew he would worry Randy if he pulled away, but it was all too much for him and Punk managed to escape Randy's embrace. 'Err...I'm not really feeling too good.'

He wasn't lying. Right in that moment he felt like at any moment he could throw up.

A concerned hand rested on his shoulder. 'What's wrong?'

Punk turned around to look at Randy. He had regained his composure somewhat and he put a mask on that he hoped would fool the Viper. 'Nothing much. I've just got a bit of a headache. I'm going to go sit out on the balcony for a while. I need some fresh air.'

'Okay. I'm going to go to bed then.' Randy replied. He closed the small distance between himself and Punk and kissed Punk delicately on the lips. 'Night.'

'Night.' Punk watched the retreating man. He saw Randy disappear up the stairs and he let out a long relieved breath.

The panic that had rose up from the depths of his being decreased now that he was alone. He sincerely hoped that the mask he had worn had fooled Randy. The last thing he wanted was for Randy to be worrying that he had done something wrong when that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Punk sighed in annoyance. He knew he had been a coward, but it was just too much pressure. It felt like there was so much at risk after he would lay it all on the line. It made an already difficult situation ten times harder.

Punk opened the doors and stepped out onto his balcony. He felt a sense of calm wash over him as the cool air soothed him. He sat down and watched the Chicago night sky shine above. So many times he had been in this very same position. Whenever he needed to find answers or clarity he'd inevitably find himself sat on the balcony at night, looking up to the skies for guidance.

He'd internally debate. He'd mull the situation over within his own mind. And nine times out of ten he would walk back into his apartment with a newfound perspective and a clear direction in which to pursue. The last time he was sat there and longing for answers was last July when he struggled with the decision on whether to re-sign with the WWE or not.

He found clarity then. He hoped he would now.

The dilemma he found himself in was made worse due to his reluctance to let anyone close to him. Sure he had a select few people who he let in; Colt, his sisters, Amy, but what he was considering in his head was a whole new form of letting someone close.

Punk's resistance to let someone near had been his modus operandi for as long as he could remember. The walls had been thrown up and were made of thick stone that was hard to break. Yet his hostile veneer was actually starting to crack. Those solid walls were beginning to crumble and fall and it was down to the most unlikely person.

Punk's mind then flashed back to Randy's birthday. In particular the moment where Randy and he had brought up the subject of taking the sexual side of their relationship to the ultimate level. Punk's reaction to Randy's insinuation of what role each of them would play was pivotal in the memory of Punk.

At first he believed he was mad at Randy for his assumption, but it quickly dawned on Punk that he wasn't mad at that at all. What he actually felt was shock at how willing he was to take that next step. No matter the role he played he wanted to reach that next level with Randy.

It had plagued his mind for days. It was the ultimate step, the ultimate declaration of how much he felt for Randy and how much he trusted Randy. It highlighted how fast he was falling for the Viper. The oncoming pavement that he had been thinking about earlier was approaching at warp speed now and he just hoped that Randy would want to take that next step with him, and to mark the date that their relationship turned official.

But to get there he had to speak up. The Voice of the Voiceless now needed to find his own voice.

Punk never thought he would ever want to take that colossal step. Even after he realised he was attracted to the very male Randy Orton, he was still certain that he would never want Randy and him to be so intimate.

But he did.

He wanted it more than anything.

He wondered if he wanted it a little too much.

...


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter. They were all so lovely. You guys are awesome!**

**We're still in Chicago! Enjoy :)**

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Ever since they had got to Punk's apartment in Chicago, Illinois Randy felt that Punk had been gradually acting more and more strangely. He was distant. As if he was in his own world most of the time.

Every time he seemed to look over at the WWE champion he would be staring into space and it took a mighty effort from Randy to get Punk to return to reality. Orton initially hoped Punk was just in one of his trademark bad moods and it would blow over come the following morning, but it hadn't. If anything it had gotten more severe and critical.

Punk had barely spoken to him. Not even to insult him or to reply to him with a witty sarcastic retort. And if that wasn't cause for concern Randy didn't know what was. In the years that he had known Punk the mans mouth would never shut up. His barbs would be firing bullet after bullet like a machine gun. However, Punk had primarily sat there silent, save for his soft breathing as he watched TV, or read a comic book or ate dinner.

Randy's thoughts started to runaway with themselves. He was fearing the worst. They had been through so many ups and downs, so many fights that he was sure Punk would at any minute tell him that they needed to talk and the Straight Edge Superstar would put an end to their budding relationship.

The first day that they had arrived in Chicago Punk seemed pleased to be home. He appeared to be happy that Randy was with him. But after the night drew in on the second day he had morphed into the eerily silent Punk that currently sat Indian style beside him whilst eating pizza.

For the last thirty six hours Punk had essentially walked out of a room whenever Randy walked into it. The more it happened and the longer the silence continued Randy felt like the writing was on the wall.

And written on that wall in luminous colours was 'We are over!'

Last night had been incredibly uncomfortable for Orton. Punk and he had been led in bed, and instead of wanting to be close to Punk, Randy wanted to be as far away from him as he could get. The awkward tension and uncomfortableness was suffocating him.

Ever since the first morning that he had been woken by Punk bringing him breakfast in bed; which quickly escalated into glorious morning blow jobs for each man, they had no sexual contact in the slightest. Hell, they had barely had any contact in any shape or form whatsoever.

Randy chewed on the crust of his pizza slice and then he noticed those green eyes on his. They looked...thoughtful. Randy knew that something was rattling around inside Punk's head and whatever it was had unsettled the Voice of the Voiceless. He looked distressed. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Despite knowing Punk struggled with voicing his emotions Randy wished that he would for once just be honest with him and wear his heart on his sleeve. Randy couldn't help but shake his head at the thought. After all he was a fine one to talk. The only time he ever shed his inhibitions and let out all his emotions was when he was so drunk he couldn't walk straight.

Punk's own unusual behaviour was causing Randy to act oddly. He was tip toeing around Punk, trying desperately not to say or do the wrong thing. He was walking on egg shells and apart of him was thinking coming to Chicago was a terrible idea.

Their gazes found each other once more and when Punk immediately diverted his eyes free from Randy's the Viper reached his limit.

'What the hell is going on?' Randy snapped a little too aggressively.

Punk was stunned by the Vipers tone. Not to mention the accusation. Was he really that transparent? 'Nothing's going on. What do you mean?' He lied and deflected.

Punk picked up another slice of pizza as Randy huffed in dispute. Randy scratched his head unsure of what direction to take in getting to the bottom of Punk's atypical behaviour. 'Something is going on with you, Punk. What is it?' He asked. His stomach did a flip as he feared the answer.

'There isn't...' Punk started to deny the accusation, but was swiftly cut off.

'So, explain to me why you are barely talking. Or why you walk out of a room whenever I enter. Or the way you can barely look me in the eye.' Randy reeled off evidence as to Punk's strange behaviour.

'Randy, I'm in the same room as you right now. I don't understand what you're doing.' Punk shrugged.

Inside however, he was panicking. The same form of panic that had consumed him two nights ago. He hated that he had been so transparent as he was dealing with his inner turmoil. He couldn't stand the fact that Randy had clearly been worried about them. About him. But the panic that had settled inside every fibre of his being was too much for him to handle.

Randy shook his head. He couldn't stand this. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a freeway, just waiting for that one blow to finish him off. He was practically encouraging the oncoming traffic to mow him down. He needed answers.

The words would soon come from Punk's voice and Punk and his relationship would be etched in the history books. Primed and ready to be forever lost and forgotten.

'Punk, I know something is wrong. You've been acting strange for days. Just...whatever it is tell me.' Randy struggled to say the words, the traffic was coming thick and fast now and the vehicle that had Punk behind the wheel would soon run him down.

Almost apologetic green eyes greeted Randy. Punk let go of his half eaten pizza slice letting it fall onto the cardboard box that it arrived in. It hit with a loud thud, or at least that how it felt to Punk's ears.

Every sense was on alert.

Every muscle rigid.

'Please.' Randy pleaded solemnly. Headlights now shone blindingly into his eyes.

Here it comes.

Punk sighed a shaky breath. The panic may have been controlling him, but seeing Randy so worried, seeing him so distraught convinced Punk to find his voice. By now he could read Orton like a book and he knew Randy was fearing that he was about to call time on their romantic attachment.

'I've just had a lot on my mind.' Punk finally spoke.

Randy's breath hitched in his throat as he almost choked on air. He had broken down Punk's defences and now he would get the answers. He knew they wouldn't be the answers he wanted. And he could see the headlights draw closer. The vehicle had sped up and he could smell the gasoline attack his nostrils.

Randy sat still. Hanging on every word. Staying deathly silent.

'I've been thinking a lot.' Punk treaded lightly with every word, trying desperately to attain the right words and not spark anymore worry in Randy.

Randy's breathing difficulties continued as he reminded himself of how to inhale and exhale.

'I guess that I'm...I don't know. I'm confused. Maybe.' Punk stuttered and stumbled as he failed miserably to say what was on his mind.

Randy couldn't help but think if Punk's confused than what the hell was he feeling, because right now Punk was making no sense and Randy himself could only just function enough to breathe correctly.

Punk shifted and wriggled within his Indian style sitting position and ran his hands over his slick backed hair.

Randy gulped in some much needed oxygen before finding his voice once more. 'Confused about what?' Randy was sure the reply would be him.

Punk let out a deep breath and his eyes fixed onto Randy's. Tension and nerves swarmed over them both and Punk's apartment became a beacon of worry and panic.

'You know what we talked about on your birthday?' Punk asked. It was rhetorical. Sort of. He hoped Randy hadn't forgot about it. He for one hadn't that was for sure. 'About us taking the next step?' He verified anyway.

'Sure.' Randy answered. The thought about the next step had filled him with nerves and excitement in equal measure. It was also a constant source of worry. Uncharted territory always was. He wanted to take that next step at one moment and then the next his decision would change. He was also completely unaware of Punk's real feelings on the subject. But the way the conversation was currently going it seemed Punk's feelings would be revealed.

'Well, I think...I think I sort of want to.' Punk mumbled quietly. Almost scared of hearing the words himself. Not to mention what Randy would think of them.

'You think you...' Randy started to reply.

'I know I want too.' Punk stated, finding some last drop of confidence that resided deep within him. He felt an instantaneous amount of relief at his declaration.

Randy smiled. His impending doom had vanished. No more oncoming vehicles. No more freeway. No bright headlights robbing him of his vision. No. He saw clearly now. 'Are you sure?' He asked, making sure Punk was absolutely positive about his decision.

'Yeah.' Punk answered. 'I mean I've certainly gone over it a million and one times in my head, but I'm sure. I've thought about it a lot. Probably too much.' Punk admitted, as realisation now dawned on the Viper as to why Punk had been so distant and stand offish.

'I guess that's also why I acted like a toolbox on your birthday.' Punk alluded to his hasty exit from the shower on the morning of Randy's 32nd birthday and Wrestlemania 28. 'Sorry about that.' Punk added.

'Wow, an apology.' Randy smirked. He knew by now that Punk only ever apologised when he truly meant it. Truth be told such a simple thing meant a lot to him.

'Don't expect anymore.' Punk shook his head, and silently made sure that Randy knew that he would be in for a lot of sarcastic quips if he didn't wipe that grin off his face in quick fashion.

Before Punk could even comprehend what was happening the Apex Predator's body and lips were on his. He could feel all of Randy's warm body pressed up against his and he moaned into the passionate kiss that Randy had sprung upon him.

'Wait.' Punk managed to say between kisses. Once Randy removed his lips from Punk's he sat back onto his knees. 'There's one more thing.'

Randy's curiosity instantly sparked. 'Okay?'

'This.' Punk gestured at himself and then to Randy. 'If we're going to take things further, I want to make us...I want us...' Punk babbled finding it hard to grasp the right words. Or the words that at least sounded right in his own head.

'To be official?' Randy interjected, hoping that his hunch on what Punk was alluding to was correct.

'Yeah.' Punk confirmed. 'I just don't want to go further if we're not...I hate this word, but if we're not committed.' Punk winced at his own vocabulary. His usual articulate nature had abandoned him.

'I want to be official too, Punk.' Randy smiled as he saw a similar look on Punk's face.

'Yeah?' Punk beamed.

Randy nodded. 'Yeah. So, now that we're officially dating...'

Randy trailed off as he pushed Punk back onto the floor and covered the mans body with his own and reignited their passionate kissing that had came to a halt a minute earlier.

Punk was practically melting into the hardwood floor as those familiar hands that belonged to _his_ man started to caress, then scratch, then glide, then claw over his body and it was driving him insane.

Hot air whisked over his ear as Randy's head was next to his own. 'I've wanted to take things further too.' Randy admitted, and Punk felt all the panic vanish into thin air, and he wondered what the hell he was so worried about.

Before Punk knew it they had wound up in his bedroom with a trail of clothes following them from the living area. Discarded clothing was on the stairs, on a lamp and on a door handle as they were ripped off in the throes of passion.

Randy loomed large over his body as eyes bored into him. Punk could see wild passion dancing in the blue orbs. Punk's mind was spinning, dangerously close to losing control, reservations gnawed away at him a little still as he thought about what was to come, but when Randy's voice whispered into his ear if he was 'okay' he felt a sense of calm take over. He smiled at the effect Randy had on him. One simple reassuring question was enough for him to be hundred percent certain he wanted this. He just needed that one last thing for his reservations to be vanquished.

Randy's warm and gentile touch soothed him, and he came back to life beneath the Viper and his own hands ran down over the toned flesh of Orton's abdomen. A heated exchange ensued as Punk rolled into the dominating position, kisses raining down over Orton's chest and stomach. The tables turned once more as Randy regained the upper hand his hands pinning Punk's wrists against the mattress. He rolled his hips, his erection gliding against Punk's.

Punk groaned wanting more contact, he unashamedly raised his hips chasing after the Vipers body. Randy pushed at Punk's muscular thighs opening them wide and he settled between them before diving in for a searing kiss.

Another roll of Orton's hips made Punk gasp, and as he faltered during the kiss, Randy sucked on his tongue before biting at the Second City Saints lip ring and tugging at it. Punk let out a pained whimper, but he rose his head from the masses of pillows strewn along the headboard of his bed and rested his forehead against Randy's. The pleading look in the green orbs Randy could read from a mile away and how could he not grant Punk's wish?

Randy released his grip on Punk's wrists and slid his fingers through Punk's messed up hair and caressed a loving hand over the Chicagoans cheek. He kissed Punk on the lips before smirking down at him.

That smirk. The look that used to rile Punk up into an angry rabid mood. Now it just drove him crazy. It turned him on.

Randy ran a finger along the seam of Punk's lips and a flash of a grin spread over Punk's features as he licked at the digit and then sucked on it wantonly.

Seeing Punk feast on his finger, coating it with saliva and moaning erotically in the midst of the action was almost enough to make the Viper climax embarrassingly quickly. He hurriedly freed his finger from Punk's eager mouth and journeyed to it's original destination.

Randy watched Punk's eyes slip shut as he breached his entrance, his finger slipping in up to the knuckle and he heard a shaky breath escape the man beneath him. Randy knew how huge and important this was and he felt the overwhelming need to comfort Punk as much as he could. He nuzzled into Punk's neck, kissing over the pulse point and he felt Punk turn his head toward him and press his forehead against his own neck. The one hand that remained on Punk's wrist now moved to intertwine their fingers together, he squeezed Punk's hand hoping to reassure him.

Punk breathed in deeply, inhaling his lover scent as he kissed at the tanned skin of Randy's neck. His free hand ran up the Apex Predators spine stopping at the nape of his neck. Randy looked at him and Punk kissed him as Orton worked his finger in and out of Punk's hole.

Randy worked a second finger inside and Punk felt a slight sting at the bigger intrusion, but it didn't affect his arousal as his dick still remained painfully hard with pre-cum beading at the slit. Punk's free hand moved between the small gap between Randy and his body and he took hold of his member at the base. He started to stroke slowly, he nibbled at Orton's lips as the immense pleasure he already felt intensified.

With every upstroke Punk's fingers would graze Orton's abdomen and immediately realising the situation Randy arched his back so he could peer down between their interlocked bodies and watch Punk pleasure himself. The sight was one to behold, and it made the fire inside the Viper burn even brighter.

Randy looked back up at Punk to see his tongue lick his lips as a relaxed sigh escaped the Straight Edge Superstar. A smirk then wrote itself over Punk's features and suddenly Randy was torn between where to look. At the cheeky smirk and gorgeous and intense green eyes or the erotic sight of the head of Punk's cock continually emerging from Punk's fist. His brain couldn't function so he settled for both. His eyes darting back and forth over and over.

If Randy's brain was struggling to function then Punk's had completely suffered a melt down. He was melting into the sheets as Randy had worked a third finger inside his tight heat. Suddenly he arched off the bed, a gruff and loud moan tore from him as Randy hit his spot.

'Fuck.' Punk whispered as he tried to draw a breath after the new sensation that racked his body.

Randy didn't make that task an easy one to accomplish as he curled his fingers and hit Punk's prostate over and over again. Punk's hand slipped from his dick and clawed at the sheet beneath him.

Randy was torturing him as he nudged at his spot on every inward journey and Randy was fully aware of it. He could feel Punk's body arching into his, could see Punk's head thrashing side to side and the desire burning in his eyes. Randy felt a sense of pride swell at the knowledge he could please Punk so intimately. Within the Vipers cranium he had wondered if he could please Punk to the level that he hoped he could. After all, this was a new experience for both men, neither had this intimacy with any other male and to say Orton had approached it with trepidation was an understatement. His nerves had started to rescind now that they were in the moment and he had found his confidence.

Punk freed his hand from Randy's and grasped the Vipers head and crashed his lips into Orton's. It was a forceful, bruising, but an equally amazing kiss. Nails raked down Orton's back leaving red lines etched into the flawless tanned canvas.

As Punk dug his nails into his flesh Randy yelled in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and his hips thrust against Punk's and their dicks slid together in a perfect motion.

Punk was losing it as new sensations bombarded him from all angles and before he knew it he was panting into Randy's ear for 'more'.

Randy smiled warmly at Punk and it was returned as Punk stroked a gentle thumb along the Viper's jaw. Randy kissed Punk lovingly on the lips and then sat back on his haunches. He removed his fingers from Punk and reached down to his open suitcase and found some baby oil.

Punk laughed. 'Is this why you always have baby oil?'

Randy gave him the middle finger. 'You'll be glad to know my baby oil has been used on one person before and one person only, and that would be me.'

Punk sat up and kissed Randy, he slipped his tongue inside Randy's mouth and the baby oil dropped from Randy's grasp as Punk led back down taking Randy with him as the kiss remained unbroken.

Punk smiled. 'Good.'

Randy smiled against Punk's lips and after a brief peck on the lips he moved back and found the baby oil again. He covered his aching penis with a generous amount, his main thought at that moment being concerned for Punk. He knew that initial entry would most likely cause some pain, and all he wanted for Punk was to feel only pleasure.

Punk took some deep breaths to calm the butterflies that were flying around in his stomach. He had no doubts in his mind however, that this what he wanted. A slick finger then probed at his entrance and copious amounts of baby oil was rubbed at his entrance and his hole clenched out of nerves at what was to come.

Randy settled between his thighs again and Punk could see that nerves weren't only rattling around his body. Randy eyes told the story. So Punk opened his legs wider, making a clear statement to Randy that he wanted it. He wanted him. Badly.

Punk saw a slight smile on Randy's face emerge before a more serious look took over. He felt warm palms run down the back of his thighs. One hand then disappeared as the other grasped onto his hip. He then felt the head of Randy's dick at his entrance. His breath hitched in his throat, but he reminded himself to relax. Randy leant over him, casting a shadow over his sweaty body and kissed him delicately as he slowly pushed inside. Punk could feel the tight ring of his channel yielding as Randy slipped inside.

Randy placed his sweaty forehead against Punk's. He kept his eyes closed and he could feel the warm breath of Punk's tingle over his face and neck. Once he slipped inside Punk's channel the walls gripped him tightly. He slowly moved his hips forward sending more of his length into Punk. His cock felt on fire as more of his length sunk into his lovers hot velvet heat.

Punk chewed on his lip, his hands clutched at Randy's strong shoulders as inch by inch of Randy's cock worked its way inside him. His breathing was shaky, but controlled. With all his might he focussed on relaxing his body, and soon enough he felt Randy's pelvis and balls resting against him.

Once fully sheathed inside Punk, Randy rested his chest on top of Punk's and moved his head to the side of the Straight Edge Superstars. Randy turned his head and opened his eyes to see Punk breathing in and out deeply. Punk's fingers were still latched onto his flesh and he kissed along Punk's jaw up to his ear.

'You okay?' Randy whispered.

Punk could only nod.

'Are you sure? We can stop...' Randy suggested.

'No.' Punk quickly cut in. He opened his eyes and stared straight into the Vipers gaze. 'Just give me a minute. I promise I'm fine.'

It seemed both men needed some extra reassurance. Both were not just thinking about their own experience either, they were also acknowledging each others.

The feeling of having every inch of Randy's member inside him felt incredible to Punk. He couldn't find words to describe it. He felt full, but on fire. The flames were tingling his skin and crackling in his ears. The feeling of Randy throbbing inside of him was a whole new level of intimacy and he was enjoying every second of it. Every detail would be etched into his memory forever.

This really was the sweetest agony.

Punk kissed Randy's forehead. 'I'm ready.'

Randy kissed Punk briefly before lifting his body and slowly pulling out of Punk. When the head of his dick was all that remained inside Punk, he slowly pushed back in. He watched Punk's face for any sign of pain, but saw none. After a few experimental thrusts he started to pick up the pace little by little.

As Randy hips started to speed up Punk could feel minor stabs of pain shoot up his spine at the intrusion and he winced. He could take the pain though, he knew it was part of the journey, and what comes after he was sure would be worth it. He closed his eyes and tried to hide any visual signs of pain that was soon dwindling.

Randy grunted as Punk's ass gripped his shaft, the feeling of being inside Punk, the warmth, the softness, the tightness it was all sending shivers down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as the first gasp slipped from the man beneath him.

The pleasure was born and it created gasps and moans to emanate from deep within Punk. The feel of Randy's impressive length sliding in and out of him was causing his own dick to twitch against his belly. Pre-cum was now oozing down the shaft and before he could jerk himself off Randy's talented hand was already there. An appreciative smile to Randy followed.

Thrusts became more forceful, the snap of Orton's hips had more bite, and Punk was starting to writhe underneath him. Randy padded his thumb over the tip of Punk's dick smearing the pre-cum further down his member. Randy's other hand was locked onto Punk's hip, the grip he had would probably leave red fingerprints emblazoned on Punk's skin for days, but Randy was so caught up in the moment he couldn't even have a coherent thought really.

Punk wanted Randy closer to him and he lifted his feet from the bed and wrapped his strong legs around the Apex Predators waist. He dug his heels into the small of Orton's back and pulled him tightly against his body. Now with every thrust the entire length of Randy's body slithered against his and their sweaty bodies now gleamed in the light.

Punk ran his hand over the short hair on Orton's head before wrapping his arms around his neck. As Randy leant in closer Punk nibbled on his ear, before licking the shell. 'You feel so good.' Punk gasped between breaths.

Randy chuckled lightly. 'Right back at ya.'

A perfect synergy had formed.

Punk's eyes then slipped shut and rolled into the back of his head as his whole body was electrified as Randy's forceful thrust found his prostate. An explosion went off in Punk's body as his fists pounded against the mattress on each side of their conjoined bodies.

Once Randy found Punk's sweet spot he angled his hips to hit it every single time and when he did he received the most delicious friction against his shaft as Punk's walls clenched around him like a vice.

'More.' Punk whimpered, as his hands reached out blindly and found Randy's strong, well built tense thighs. He ran his hands up the bulging muscles to his tight ass. He took a generous squeeze of both cheeks and pushed at The Vipers ass, a clear indication of what he wanted. What he needed.

Randy balls met Punk's ass with a slap as Orton complied to Punk's wish. His thrusts grew in intensity and force, one brutal re-entry sent Punk's body shifting up the bed. It was met with a favourable response; a loud cry of 'Fuck! Yes, Randy!'

Randy could feel his end approaching, and he was adamant he wanted to get Punk off first. He turned up the speed on Punk's cock as he jerked him off with more fervour. Punk whimpered at the onslaught his feet rubbing up and down from Randy's ass to the back of his knees.

As Randy pummelled into him, Punk could feel the sweat dripping down from his lovers body. The physical exertion taking its toll. He was drenched in sweat too and just as he thought he couldn't get more turned on without climaxing Randy licked at his nipples and his chest collecting up the sweat on his tongue as he did so. Punk arched into Randy's body, and lifted his head from the pillows and reciprocated, he licked all over Orton's chest and the Vipers sweat danced on his tongue.

Randy's balls were now tight to his body ready to explode and he could feel every twitch and throb of Punk's dick in his palm. They were both so close to reaching their amazing climatic high.

Punk started to move his hips in time with Randy's movements on his dick and with his thrusts. He would go from thrusting into Orton's palm to pushing back onto his dick and the moans and grunts from both men got turned up even louder.

Punk pulled Randy's head down to his own and whispered he was close. Randy confirmed he was too. Randy thrust with renewed vigour and Punk whimpered into his ear as he felt his end speeding toward him.

The scorching temperature inside Punk's bedroom soared and Randy pushed in and met his prostate again and this time Punk's orgasm tore from him. Punk's delighted moans was music to Randy's ears as streams of cum erupted from Punk. He coated Randy's hand and his own stomach as he shot the biggest load in his life. The most intense and incredible orgasm sent him spinning.

Randy sent his length in deep and as Punk's ass clenched around him as he came, Randy managed to thrust again into Punk's convulsing channel, and as he looked down at Punk's pleasure filled features and the mess Punk had made it drove him over the edge. Randy rode the crest of the wave and bit down on Punk's shoulder and his cries of Punk's name was muffled by the mans flesh as he collapsed on top of him. He felt Punk's tight grip clench onto his shoulders as he spilled into Punk's ass.

Punk mewled in delight as he felt Randy reach his climax quickly after him. The feeling of Randy's warm cum inside him excited him, and it was a surprising thought. Times had changed. He had changed.

Punk felt disorientated, his eyes unable to focus as splashes of bright colours made up his vision as his eyes crept open. He felt off balance and his sweat was pouring profusely over his numb and tingling body. Punk imagined this was what being stoned or drunk was like. He smirked at the thought of Randy Orton being his drug. Randy Orton was his bliss.

Caring hands started to glide from Orton's shoulders and down to his back, over his ass and back again. Punk could feel Randy inhaling deeply, as his chest rose and fell against his own.

After a minute Randy finally lifted his head from the crook of Punk's neck. A smile followed by a kiss. Randy leant back and removed his softening penis from Punk. He heard a quiet hiss from Punk as he left his body.

'Are you okay?' Randy asked with immediate concern.

Punk raised an eyebrow and smiled. 'I'm more than okay. What about you?'

'Are you sure? You sounded in pain.' Randy asked, more worried with Punk's well being than how he felt at the time.

Punk sat up and wrapped his arms around Randy's waist. 'I'm fine. I may not be walking so well tomorrow, but believe me I'm great.' Punk kissed him reassuringly and quelled his fear.

'Good.' Randy smiled with relief. 'We should probably get cleaned up.' Randy suggested as he looked over the mess they had made not only on themselves, but also the sheets.

Punk shook his head and led back down pulling Randy on top of him. 'No way. I want to stay here a little while longer.'

Randy was nestled between Punk's thighs, with Punk's flaccid member against his chest and Punk's cum smeared over their skin, whilst his head rested on Punk's chest right beside his heart.

Punk's arms cradled him and a hand continually ran against the grain of his hair soothingly. Randy felt his eye lids getting heavier and heavier and his eyes fell shut as he felt Punk kiss the top of his head.

...

Punk had left Randy sound asleep, giving up on his own quest of trying to rest after two hours of attempts. He was out on the balcony, it was gone midnight and the streets were deathly quiet. The sky was lit up with a full moon, it made the wooden planks that made up the balcony glimmer and shine and Punk stared up into the black night above him and smiled brightly. He silently thanked the night sky for the answers that he sought days prior. They came through for him again.

He had been stood there for at least half an hour now, the cool night breeze swirled over his naked form. It didn't chill him whatsoever though, he still felt like he was on fire. His body still hummed as it remembered every feeling from Randy's touch on the outside and the inside of his body.

Taking their relationship up a gear wasn't an easy decision to make. Nor to voice...even for a loudmouth like Punk. But he achieved it, and it resulted in the most intense, pleasurable, intimate moment of his entire life.

Was there any regrets?

He suddenly felt strong arms envelop him and the equally nude Randy Orton pressed his body tight against his back. 'I woke up and you were gone.' Randy's deep voice rumbled next to his ear.

'Sorry. I needed some air.' Punk replied quietly as he leaned back into Orton's body. He could still smell the heavy scent of sex in the air. It was dripping from every pore off of the both of them and he couldn't help but relish in that fact.

'Are you okay?' Randy asked needing more reassurance that Punk wasn't in any pain. He placed a delicate kiss to Punk's neck.

Punk nodded and turned in Randy's arms to face him. Punk smiled the warmest of smiles and kissed Randy passionately in the still of night.

Any regrets?

No.

No regrets.

Not a single one.

...

* * *

**The chapters in Chicago was originally planned to be just one chapter, but after writing half of this chapter I realised that if it was one chapter it would be HUGE! Luckily I found a good way to split it at the end of part 17. So, now the trip to Chicago is complete. I hope you enjoyed it. The big moment finally arrived, and I was determined to get it as close to perfect as I could. Fingers crossed you guys like it. I'm rather nervous about the reaction to this chapter...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Wow, I can't believe the reviews for the last chapter! There was a lot and all of them were so lovely to read. Every one of them made me smile. I'm thrilled you all enjoyed that chapter. SO THANK YOU! **

**Now though I have to apologise for the wait for this chapter, it's a busy time of year and that has caused the delay. I've been visiting friends and family and I've been busy getting ready for Xmas, but fingers crossed I'll be able to get a couple more chapters done before the 25th, because after I'll most likely have eaten and drank too much and be in no fit state to write lol. :p**

**Hopefully you'll like this chapter so much I'll be forgiven for the extended wait :)**

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The Wrestlemania Revenge Tour.

The words that most of the men and women on the WWE roster loathe. After Wrestlemania they travel to Europe stopping off for shows in Italy, Germany, France, Portugal and more. Currently they were in the midst of the United Kingdom leg of the tour, with Raw taping in the O2 arena in London, England that night.

Punk thought the tours to Europe were a double edged sword. On one hand it's great to see so many different fans, and the crowds are electric and hot throughout the entire shows. Punk supposed that was due to only seeing the WWE live only twice a year, unlike the States where they travel the vast majority of the time.

However, on the other hand enduring so many flights and so many shows without a break is exceptionally exhausting. And now that they were nearing the end Punk's energy tank was almost on empty.

As for Randy he had got progressively snappy as the tour went on. He wasn't thrilled at the prospect of constant flying and travelling around foreign countries for a week, not to mention the absence of a certain Straight Edge Superstar.

As usual Punk and Randy found themselves having to be apart due to being on separate brands, and Randy noticed that his temper had become even shorter once away from Punk. The vintage Orton glare had been fired in many peoples direction. The dulcet tones of his voice were evident. His body language read 'Leave me alone, or bare the consequences'. Most had taken heed of the warning signs. Some that hadn't had wished they had.

Late night texts and phone calls with his significant other only helped quell the anger in Randy for small periods of time, because the moment the conversations ended he would be alone in bed without Punk by his side.

Punk was missing the company too. His temper hadn't flared to the level of Randy's, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to the end of the brutally scheduled tour.

Raw was mere hours away. Randy had already arrived in London and was comfortably located in his hotel room waiting for the knock on the door that he longed for. Punk was travelling from Birmingham; where the Raw crew had a house show the night prior, for the taping that night in London, and after three long days and nights without one another both men were looking forward to the reunion.

Punk could feel the excitement building inside him, and internally he was mocking himself at how soppy he was acting and feeling. Three days they had been separated. Just three days. Seventy two hours. Yet he was practically bouncing off the walls at the prospect of being with Randy again. As was often the case when thoughts of that nature cropped up he realised just how much had changed in the year 2012 between Orton and he. They had certainly flipped a 180 that was for sure.

He would never admit to anyone just how much he anticipated seeing The Viper again, but he wouldn't deny it to himself. He was excited. End of story.

Randy's head snapped to the door as he heard a soft knock and the smile that rose up he couldn't hide as he padded over toward the door. As the door opened excitement bounced between them and Randy ushered Punk into the room and once the door closed Randy's lips found Punk's.

'I guess you missed me.' Punk smirked against Randy's lips, his arms wrapping around his boyfriends waist.

'Am I that obvious?' Randy questioned as he kissed Punk again.

Punk pulled back from Randy's kiss and nodded. 'You did pounce on me as soon as I was through the door.' Punk ran his palms over Orton's back with a soothing grace. 'Not that I mind. I missed you too.' He blushed.

Randy smiled wide at Punk's words. 'I should think so too. I'm an easy person to miss. After all I am amazing.' Randy joked.

Punk scoffed. 'Wow, you think a lot of yourself, Orton.'

Randy chuckled as he kissed Punk again. He felt like he wouldn't be able to stop anytime soon. After three days without being able to kiss Punk or touch him, or feel Punk's body against his he didn't want to stop. He wished there was no Raw that night so he could stay in the hotel with Punk and reacquaint himself with every inch of Punk's body. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. He basked in the body heat radiating from his lover, determined to enjoy it before they had to leave for the arena.

'Are you hungry?' Randy asked.

'Yeah, I could do with a meal before Raw.' Punk replied as he felt hunger pangs.

'Room service?' Orton suggested.

'Sounds good.' Punk nodded as he pecked Randy on the lips before reluctantly leaving Randy's arms to go to the bathroom.

After catching up on what they had got up to during their time apart, and the house shows across Europe that they had participated in they settled down as their dinner arrived.

Both men tucked in with gusto feeling famished from their journeys and long days over the course of the week. Minimal conversation transpired as they ate, instead comfortable silence lingered.

As Punk polished off his pasta, and leant back into the chair he watched Randy polish off his own dinner which consisted off a greasy burger and fries. Not the healthiest meal, but tasty nonetheless. And as Punk saw Orton lick his lips and saviour every bite he started to wish he had gone for the same meal.

Randy took another bite enjoying every mouthful. He licked his lips and sighed appreciatively as his taste buds loved every bite. 'Mmm, this is so good.' Randy announced between bites. 'It's the tastiest thing that has ever been in my mouth.'

Instantly Punk met Orton's gaze and quirked an eyebrow at him, coupled with a suggestive smirk. 'Well that's disappointing.'

Randy shook his head and laughed at the rude quip. 'Okay, second. A very close second.'

Punk kept a straight face. 'Maybe you need a reminder of how good I taste, Randal.' Punk suggested.

'Maybe I do.' Randy nodded as he pushed his plate away feeling incredibly full. 'But I think that will have to wait. We've got to leave for the arena soon.'

Punk looked at the time and realised Randy was right. But after Raw and once they were safely back in their hotel room Punk was determined that he would remind Randy just what he had been missing over the course of the last seventy two hours.

...

Even though Punk's presence had caused an upswing in Randy's mood whilst they were alone in their hotel room once they had got to the arena it had turned sour all over again. The exhaustion catching up with him more than once as he snapped at Heath Slater for not moving out of his way. He had been distinctly uninterested in whatever the road agent for his match had to say, and all that had ran through his head the entire time was how long left until he would finally get to have some uninterrupted time with Punk.

Punk was scheduled to open the show to have a No Disqualification match with Mark Henry, followed by a showdown with Jericho that would lead to an eventual Wrestlemania rematch at Extreme Rules; the next pay per view event. But minutes before his music would thunder through the speakers into the arena he dragged Randy along a deserted corridor and into an empty room.

'Punk, you've got to be out there soon.' Randy reminded him.

'Yeah, I know. But I want to put a smile on your miserable face before I do.' Punk replied.

'I'm not miserable. Just tired.' Randy stated.

'I know.' Punk sympathised as he ran his hands back and forth over Randy's tattooed arms.

'So, how were you planning to put a smile on my face?' Randy asked with curiosity.

Punk suddenly pulled Randy close to him by the hem of his Viper tee-shirt and kissed him passionately. His tongue swirled into Randy's as a hand slid over the clothed torso of The Apex Predator. It crept lower and lower, until it reached the waistband of his trunks. Punk's fingertips dipped inside before teasingly retreating. A disappointed whimper came from The Viper so Punk quickly dived back inside the tight fabric and cupped Randy's dick and balls within his palm.

Punk ended the kiss and smirked right at Orton. 'Just keep your mind on what is waiting for you once we get back to the hotel.'

Randy couldn't stifle a moan as his cock hardened within Punk's palm. He also couldn't hide the smile that Punk brought out in him.

Punk kissed him quickly on the lips once he saw that smile. He then retracted his hand and walked out the room to rush to gorilla position to start Raw.

After all, his mission was complete.

...

Once the conclusion to Raw had been taped CM Punk and Randy Orton had left the arena quicker than they ever had before in their whole WWE tenures. They walked briskly through the hotel lobby, Punk prodded the elevator button over and over in some vain hope that it would get to the ground floor faster.

Once on their floor they flew down the hall. The key card to their room was hurriedly found and as the light flashed green; gaining them entry, they flew through the door practically dislodging it from its hinges.

Their bodies crashed together as soon as they were locked away from the world with unchained passion and hunger. Clothes were stripped off, and in some cases torn off. Punk's latest new tee-shirt that read 'In Punk we trust', was ripped to shreds by Randy's determination to get to all that soft and beautiful skin that was beneath the fabric. Punk didn't care about the ripped shirt, he could always get another. Not to mention he would probably have a new tee-shirt out soon enough now that he was a merchandise machine.

Punk had gained the early control and had Orton beneath him as they kissed with all the pent up passion they could muster. Randy could never get enough of kissing Punk. He wasn't sure why for a while, but every time he saw those lips and the way the curled into a smile, or when they turned into that irresistible smirk and the way the light glimmered from the metal lip ring he became a man possessed and he had to feel those talented and gorgeous lips on his own. Eventually he put it down to Punk being a phenomenal kisser. Punk's kisses were like no one else's. They were breath stealing, body inhabiting, tender yet forceful all at the same time and it drove Randy insane.

Punk's body hovering over him cast a shadow over his face, and now that his eyes weren't being blinded by the bright offensive light above them he could see clear as day Punk's trademark smirk. Randy smiled, he knew what was coming.

Punk leant into the crook of Randy's neck and kissed all the way up to Orton's ear. A sultry whisper followed. 'Are you ready to remember what the greatest thing you've ever tasted is?'

Blue eyes turned shades darker with lust as he nodded, he went to move and roll Punk onto his back, but a firm hand planted on his chest and kept him where he was. He looked back up with a questioning look. Punk just waved a finger in his face with a a clear gesture of 'No!'

Punk moved further up the bed his knees positioned on either side of Randy's head. A pleased smile shone down at him and then Punk sat back onto his calves and with one hand his fingers wrapped around the base of his erection, he leant forward and ran the tip of his dick along the seam of Randy's lips smearing the pre-cum over them in the process.

Randy opened his mouth his tongue darting out and licking at the head wanting to taste as much of Punk as he could. Punk had no intention of not letting him and he pushed his hips forward sending his length into Randy's mouth.

It wasn't the easiest of positions for Randy to give Punk the best stimulation, but the more time that passed the more he grew in confidence. He swirled his tongue around the head, licked from base to tip when he could.

Randy's lips were also slick with saliva, some dribbling down his cheek and chin. Punk's thrusts picked up pace as he found a rhythm, his balls striking Randy's chin on every inward motion. Randy's hand moved from their idle state on the mattress to gripping Punk's ass. He pushed Punk further down his throat with every thrust and started to moan around Punk's length.

The vibrations of Randy moaning caused Punk's pleasure to heighten and he threw his head back and grunted in delight. Punk could feel in the pit of his stomach the heat rising and as he felt a single finger slip inside his ass his whole body tingled with arousal.

Punk was buffeted between intense pleasure as he rocked back onto Randy's finger, then plunged his shaft into his boyfriends warm and wet mouth. His hands latched onto the headboard with a vice like grip and his knuckles turned white.

Randy's jaw was beginning to ache, the position he was in was far from comfortable, but he was enjoying every second of causing the sweetest pleasure on Punk's body. His efforts were being rewarded with hearing Punk's whimpers and moans getting louder and more frequent. Randy's own dick was rock hard and leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. Another delectable moan escaped his lover and it turned Randy on even more and his dick twitched and slapped onto his abdomen.

Punk motions slowed until Punk's cock left Randy's mouth with a wet pop and the whole shaft was glistening with saliva. He slid his body down until he was straddling Randy's chest. 'If we don't stop right now, I'm going to cum.'

Randy smirked, his pride soaring at how quickly and expertly he had drawn Punk to his climax. 'I thought you wanted to remind me of how good you taste?'

'Well the night is still young, Randal.' Punk smiled with a suggestive wink.

'That is very true.' Randy replied.

Randy slid down the bed, he ducked in between Punk's thighs and with stunning grace and agility he positioned himself behind Punk. He pulled Punk away from the headboard and pushed at his back so Punk's chest met the mattress with his ass high in the air. Punk made no objections to Randy taking the steering wheel, instead he smiled as his excitement grew even more.

Randy spat into his palm coating his dick which was already well lubed with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. He had a brief thought of finding his trusty supply of baby oil, but he couldn't bare to drag himself away from Punk's magnificent body.

Punk looked behind him eager to see the look on his lovers face, and he could see the excitement, lust and passion dancing in the ocean blue orbs. Seeing Randy in such a state sent his own emotions into overdrive. He then felt Randy push in and the head of Randy's cock easily slipped inside due to the earlier preparation. As every inch slipped inside Punk felt a warmth spread through his entire being. He would never get tired of feeling it. He'd never get tired of the intimacy.

Randy was soon fully sheathed inside Punk and waited for Punk to let him know he was ready. Both had found their confidence in this new sexual side of their relationship over the last few weeks. The nerves, trepidation and reassurance of their first time was a thing of the past, they now had gained enough experience after engaging in the act often since that wonderful night in Chicago.

Punk pushed back against Randy, the sign that Orton waited for and with slow, careful thrusts Randy pushed into Punk. After a cautious start Randy started to increase in pace and force. His fingers tightening their hold on Punk's hips as he plunged his shaft into Punk's tight heat.

Punk removed his right hand from the sheets that he had been clutching and instead started to jerk off, finding perfect synchronisation with Randy's movement inside him. Punk started to sweat profusely, droplets running down from his slicked back hair down his face until it fell from the tip of his nose after a hard thrust from Randy.

Randy too was feeling the effects of his exertion, his chiselled and tanned body was now covered with a sheen of sweat. Randy's hands slipped up Punk's sides, the gentle caress sending shivers through the Second City Saint. They came to rest on Punk's shoulders, taking a firm hold Randy pulled Punk more forcefully onto his dick and the resultant moan that fell from Punk spurred Randy on.

Punk was losing his mind beneath Randy, the pleasure that coursed through his veins was unbelievable. The first time between them had been so different, yet still rated just as highly on Punk's list. The sex was different it was more tender, more caring, more loving. This was more rough, more needy, and Punk discovered he enjoyed both times in equal amounts.

Randy sent his length into Punk again, and he felt Punk's channel tighten around him almost strangling his throbbing member. He leant over his lover his sweaty chest resting along Punk's equally sweaty back. Randy kissed along Punk's shoulder blades and nuzzled the back of his neck, a sweet and tender moment that contrasted with the harsh and brutal thrusts inside of Punk.

Punk whimpered at Randy's sign of affection and he returned it in the only way he could in his position, he wrapped his foot around Orton's leg, his foot stroking back and forth over Randy's calve.

Punk couldn't keep his head up anymore and it fell into the pillow muffling his moans and whimpers. Suddenly a strong arm wrapped around his chest and pulled him back. He was rocked back into an upright position, resting on his knees with Randy's chest sliding along his back with every thrust and as Randy pushed his length back in he found Punk's sweet spot and straight away Punk's head fell back onto Randy's shoulder.

With the exposed skin of Punk right in front of him, Orton kissed and nibbled all over Punk's neck and jaw. He could feel Punk's breath ghost over his ear, and a husky whisper then fell from Punk's lips.

'I'm close.' Punk managed to gasp between thrusts as he arched back even further into Randy.

Randy's arm locked tighter around Punk's ribcage not wanting to let him go and drove into him with vigour. Punk's eyes slipped shut and a loud moan of Randy's name rung out. With his free hand Orton removed Punk's hand from his erection and took over. The pleasure was becoming too much for Punk to withstand and he could feel his climax approaching.

Randy could also feel his orgasm beginning to boil, Punk's convulsing velvet heat inching him nearer and nearer. His low groans and endearments in Punk's ear got louder and louder. Over and over he told Punk how good he felt. How amazing he is. How gorgeous he is. Punk's words to him always made him feel like he was flying and he wanted Punk to know that the feeling was very much mutual.

The endearments that came from Randy made Punk's heart thump even louder and clench inside his chest, but it was quickly taken over by a new wave of pleasure as Randy hit his prostate again. The way his body turned rigid in the Vipers grasp told Randy all he needed to know, and he entered at the same angle every time to hit Punk's sweet spot. The continuing spasms of Punk's ass around him drew Randy closer and closer to his euphoric end.

Randy's hand still worked in time with his thrusts and as his thumb ran over the crown of Punk's dick at the same time Randy hit his prostate Punk reached the point of no return. Punk's moan came from deep within him, almost sounding like a growl as his channel gripped Randy's cock and his own dick throbbed and twitched as his orgasm exploded from within him. His cum came out in thick long streams as it pooled over the sheets and Randy's hand.

Punk's vision distorted and faded to black as he reached his pique. His body practically melted into Randy's as he turned to jelly within the Vipers grasp.

Randy was soon driven to the edge, he rocked his hips his dick plunging into Punk's unreceptive and convulsing ass as Randy reached his climax. He was lost in ecstasy as he spilled into his lover.

Punk could feel Randy's cum filling him up and he reached over his shoulder, his arm curling around Randy's neck. Randy's chin fell onto his shoulder and Punk kissed at Randy's lips and cheeks. He was still basking in his own orgasm and couldn't quite find the strength to open his eyes.

Randy nuzzled into the nape of Punk's neck, placing a tender kiss on his shoulder. As his rapid breathing started to slow he slipped his softening dick out of Punk. Punk fell forward off of his knees and led down on his stomach.

'Fucking hell.' Punk mumbled breathlessly.

Randy laughed and smiled at the bliss that was currently written all over Punk's face. He waited for Punk's eyes to open, but after a minute he realised that Punk wasn't going to. 'Open your eyes, baby.'

Punk eyes crept open and he rotated slightly to look back at Randy. He was greeted with the sight of Randy seductively and sexily sucking on his fingers and licking his cum off his hand.

Punk bit his lip the sight turning him on beyond belief. 'The best thing that's ever been in your mouth?' Punk questioned, with a look on his face that told Orton there was only one correct answer.

Randy smirked. 'Absolutely. No contest.'

'That's what I like to hear.' Punk laughed.

Randy climbed further up the bed to lay beside Punk. Instinctively he moved into Punk's radiating body heat and wrapped an arm around The Voice of the Voiceless.

Randy closed his eyes, and tried to draw much needed air into his lungs. A smile that Punk was so determined to put on his lovers face was now definitely etched onto Orton's features and wouldn't be easily removed.

A contented sigh, that was coupled with a smile emanated from Randy. Randy leaned into Punk and kissed him chastely on the lips. 'Wow, you really are the Best in the World.' Randy chuckled as he rested his head against Punk's.

Punk turned onto his side and wrinkled his nose at the mans comment. 'That was lame. And I hope you're not expecting me to say I feel like I've been RKO'ed are you?' Punk replied with jest.

'Why not?' Randy grinned.

Punk laughed at the stupid grin on his lovers face, before shaking his head. 'Yeah, you are so not going to hear me say that.'

Randy sat up and looked down at Punk. 'Really? Was that not good for you?'

Punk pretended to think before shrugging his shoulders. 'It was satisfactory...I suppose.'

Randy smiled as he looked at Punk's teasing smirk. He wasn't fooled, but played along anyway. He pushed Punk onto his back and rolled on top of him pinning Punk's wrists to the mattress.

'Then maybe we should have round two!'

...


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you to all who have reviewed, favourited and followed. I'm still shocked at the reaction this story has got. I'm so incredibly pleased(that's an understatement I'm jumping up and down like a kid who's hyper on Cherryade really)! **

**I've been meaning to say this for the last 2 or 3 chapters, but somehow forgot! Anyways, congratulations CM Punk for being the WWE champion for over a year now. AWESOME! And I hope his knee is all good and he'll kick The Rock's ass at the Rumble lol. Unfortunately though he was robbed at the Slammy's. HE'S DEFINITELY SUPERSTAR OF THE YEAR IN MY BOOK!**

**Well, now that I've got all that off my chest...Enjoy the chapter :)**

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After finally being back in the States after the gruelling and taxing European tour Punk and Randy, as well as the entire WWE roster, now had to get through Raw. Pretty much every Superstar and Diva were worn out, and some were worse off than others. Zack Ryder was practically walking around like a zombie.

For Punk, elusive sleep wasn't anything new. The only strain the tour had on him was on his body. His muscles ached. He dread to think how many bumps he had taken over the course of the tour and he couldn't wait for his days off after the Tuesday nights Smackdown taping.

Randy meanwhile was surprisingly chipper. Whenever the Apex Predator had little sleep he was a walking, talking, breathing demon from hell. There was a good chance that you'd be assaulted, either verbally or physically. But not this time. Randy admittedly was tired and sore from all the matches he had participated in, but his usual temper was thankfully absent. It was no big mystery as to why. It boiled down to one thing. Or one person. He couldn't help but be happy whenever he was around Punk.

It was approaching show time and Punk was already dressed ready for his match that night against The Miz. He would also have another confrontation with Jericho. Their feud was heating up nicely and this Raw was the go home show to the Extreme Rules PPV. At that event his match had already been set. A Chicago Street Fight for the WWE championship. And it would be in front of his home town crowd. To say he was looking forward to it was an understatement.

As he sat on a crate down a quiet corridor flicking through tweets on his iPhone, he was oblivious to the figure approaching him from behind. Suddenly his vision went black as two hands covered his eyes.

Then that voice that soothed him and made his excitement surge rumbled low in his ear. 'Guess who?'

Punk paused, made a noise to imply he was seriously thinking before answering with a grin on his face. 'Erm...my hot boyfriend?'

Randy removed his hands and moved to stand in front of Punk and smiled at him. Punk's brow then furrowed in confusion. 'Oh, it's you.' Punk said, with a serious tone, but his features told another story as his smirk was in full show.

'Funny Punk, real funny.' Randy shook his head, before leaning in for a quick kiss in the empty corridor. 'I've got a surprise for you.'

Punk was surprised, his immediate response was to question his boyfriend on what it was, but the Viper didn't reveal it. Instead he took Punk's hand in his and guided him through the building toward the parking lot, during the course of the journey he was forced to relinquish Punk's hand as they travelled through crowds of people.

Eventually Randy stopped in front of a huge black bus that had a cool design that stretched down the entire side of the vehicle. 'It's a bus.' Punk replied, not really seeing what was so great about a bus.

Randy walked up the steps onto the bus and motioned for Punk to follow. The Second City Saint followed and once on the bus he had to admit the place looked awesome. It was pretty lavish. It had a huge tv and Xbox console. A refrigerator and kitchen space. Randy led him down to the back of the bus, passing a large couch and table that resembled a living room and through a sliding door to a bedroom. Punk couldn't deny the bedroom looked cosy. It wasn't huge, but it had a decent sized bed and had many amenities that you would hope for in a hotel room.

Punk was impressed. But he still didn't get why he was on a tour of a random bus. 'It's err...great. But I don't get it.' He admitted.

Randy chuckled. 'It's mine. Well ours...if you want? I decided to buy a tour bus, it's a practical way to get around. And I was hoping you would travel with me. We can even sleep here sometimes when travelling over night.' Randy suggested, hoping that Punk wouldn't think it was a stupid idea.

Punk seemed to think it over for a minute. 'It might make people ask some questions. That's going to be hard to explain.'

Randy immediately felt like an idiot. Punk probably didn't want to be with him all the time. If they did travel together all the time then they would have no time to themselves. And Punk's words rung true. Travelling together on a tour bus with one bed would most likely raise a few eyebrows. 'Right. Yeah, you're right, never mind.'

Punk instantly reached out for Orton sensing the mans disappointment and smiled at him. 'Hey, I didn't say that I cared.'

Randy looked at Punk and the smile that made him smile was there shining at him brightly. 'Is that a yes?' Randy hoped.

'Yeah, I think it's great.' Punk said, as he marvelled more at the bedroom.

He was then embraced by tattooed arms and soft lips nipped at the tattoo behind his left ear. 'How long until Raw starts?' Randy questioned.

Punk leaned back into Orton's body sighing contentedly. The slightest sign of affection from Randy made Punk feel...amazing. It made him feel special.

'Just over half an hour.' Punk replied.

Randy licked at Punk's ear lobe and ran his palm down Punk's front until it slipped under the waistband of the Straight Edge Superstars trunks. 'Maybe we should test out the bed?'

Punk smirked as he heard the sultry words from his man. He bit his lip as Randy curled his fingers around his rapidly hardening member and he moaned as he felt Randy roll his hips against him and Randy's obvious arousal ran along the globes of his ass cheeks.

Punk spun around crashing his lips onto Randy's forcefully. They only parted when air became a dire necessity and with a flourish Punk removed his tee-shirt and threw it without a care into the small bedroom. He then reached out for Randy's and stripped his lover of his clothing desperate to feel all the hard muscles and soft skin that was underneath the fabric.

They didn't have much time to work with. All foreplay was essentially thrown out the window as Punk shoved Randy in the chest sending the taller man toppling backwards onto the mattress.

'Someone is feeling forceful tonight.' Randy smirked at Punk before his eyes got distracted by Punk peeling his trunks off his slender hips.

'Well we haven't got much time.' Punk reminded him as he removed his wrestling trunks.

'True. You best get over here then.' Randy suggested with a smirk.

Punk joined him on the bed and hurriedly got Orton into an equally nude state as he discarded Randy's trunks on the floor. Randy was hard and already pre-cum was beading at the tip.

Punk's talented tongue licked from base to tip and then his tongue swirled around the purple head. Randy released a gruff grunt as the familiar tingles and shivers that Punk brought out in him resurfaced. Punk was moving swiftly, his mouth now peppering kisses over every inch of tanned skin. From Randy's thighs up to his chest Punk's soft lips lovingly kissed before finally meeting Randy's in a searing kiss.

Randy took a rough grab of Punk's ass and flipped their positions so he was now on top. Punk fought him for control, almost rolling Randy onto his back, but Randy managed to pin Punk to the mattress and with his piercing blue eyes he in no uncertain terms told Punk to keep still. Punk instantly wondered what Randy had in store for him. His curiosity wouldn't be unanswered for long however.

After quickly kissing his way down Punk's body Randy kissed his way down Punk's dick, licking at his balls before pushing the back of Punk's thighs, causing the Second City Saints knees to meet his chest and to expose his hole to Randy.

Randy gaze flickered at him hungrily and Punk's breath hitched in his throat at the sight. A cross between affection and possessiveness, and knowing that he was the cause for that look made his heart pound.

The apex of Randy's tongue prodded at Punk's opening before licking a wet stripe from his hole up to his balls. A quiet whimper could be heard further up the bed and Orton smiled at the knowledge that he already had his man feeling good.

The feeling of Randy's tongue laving around his hole in wet concentric circles was turning Punk on and he was desperate to feel more. He pushed his ass back as best he could against Orton. He didn't care how needy his actions appeared or how needy his whimpers made him sound. Randy made him feel on top of the world and he wanted his Viper to know it.

Encouraged by his boyfriends actions Randy pushed his tongue into the tight channel and suddenly he felt vibrations through the mattress as Punk's fists pounded against it. Randy darted his tongue in and out at a faster rate and he could feel Punk's channel relax as he got used to the invasion. Aided by his saliva a single finger easily worked its way in beside his tongue and Punk was still pushing back against him.

Randy curled the digit when he re-entered and hit Punk's prostate with expertise and the resultant moan of his name from his lover caused his own hips to buck. He needed to be inside Punk. He needed to feel that intimate feeling that he could never get enough of.

Randy removed his finger and tongue and rested back on his haunches. He was about to retrieve some baby oil, but Punk had other ideas. He took the momentary distraction and used it to his advantage as he knocked the Viper onto his back and straddled his waist. Punk took Randy in his hand and guided Randy's leaking dick to his entrance.

Randy held onto Punk's hips as he felt the head of his cock slip inside. 'Wait, I don't want to hurt you.' Randy worried as he was practically penetrating Punk dry.

'It's fine. I just need to feel you. I want you now.' Punk admitted, unashamed of his desperation.

Randy could only reply with a nod as Punk sunk down onto his length. Punk closed his eyes as inch after inch penetrated him. This was a new experience having Randy enter him with little prep and no baby oil to aid the entry, and Punk was certainly finding it more painful, but he was feeling no regrets. The fire in the pit of his stomach needed to be tamed and the only person in the world who could do just that was Randy Orton. He needed to have Randy inside him and finally he felt Randy's balls resting against his ass.

Punk opened his eyes and shot a mischievous grin down at Randy. He could never get tired of this. The feeling of Randy inside him. Seeing Randy's gorgeous face watching him. Having Randy's hands on him, gentle caresses from Randy's thumbs on his hips. Punk definitely would never get tired of this.

It was impossible.

Punk's dick was throbbing and the intense pleasure that Punk was receiving only furthered when Randy took hold of his aching dick and started to jerk him off. Punk could feel the pain of entry wane and he started to move up and down on his lovers cock. He found his rhythm and his movements increased in pace. He squeezed his ass around Randy's member and Orton moaned loudly at the delicious friction.

Randy let go of Punk's dick and instead went back to holding his hips. Only this time with a firmer hold. As Punk descended back onto his length he met him halfway as he raised his hips off the bed. Punk threw his head back as their bodies met with a slap.

Randy's thrusts turned more forceful and one in particular knocked Punk off balance. He fell forward bracing his hands on Randy's broad chest to steady himself. He could feel Randy's racing heart beat under his right palm and knowing that heart was pounding because of him made a warmth spread throughout him from his own beating heart. That garnered that feeling inside him again. It made him feel special.

'You look beautiful.' Randy whispered breathlessly.

Punk's eyes locked onto Randy's beneath him and he got completely lost in their gaze. He had felt this before when he was with Randy, but not this strongly. It consumed him. He couldn't pin point what it was exactly, all he knew was that he liked feeling it.

Punk somehow managed to utter a cohesive reply. 'You should see it from my view.'

Orton smiled and kissed Punk's hand before both of Punk's hands rippled Randy's skin as they pushed their way up from his chest and onto his shoulders. The ferocity of their bodies crashing together increased further and Punk's body was almost like that of a rag doll as he took every thrust with relish. His dick was bobbing up and down as his body was rocked back and forth on Randy's cock, his dick occasionally hit Randy's chiselled abdomen with a slap leaving trails of pre-cum over the Apex Predator's six pack.

Punk knew he was close and once Randy found his spot he took hold of his aching dick and started to jerk off desperately chasing after his orgasm. Ripples of pleasure coursed through his veins as with every thrust Randy now hit his prostate his muscles turned rigid and his ass clenched around Orton over and over.

Randy's eyes ran over the erotic sight before and it turned him on even further. The sweat was dripping all over Punk's body, his boyfriends skin gleaming as his muscles were taut. Those green orbs that he found to be so incredibly hypnotising were honed in on him and pushed him closer to the edge. The body that he had in his arms was pure perfection and he wanted to worship Punk's body forever.

Randy bit his lip he could feel his balls tightening and tingling, he was so close now. He could see Punk was coming undone on top of him. He could also feel it. Punk's nails clawed into his shoulder, his head was thrown back, an erotic moan of his name spilled from Punk and his ass convulsed around his throbbing dick as Punk's orgasm tore from him. Punk's wrist continued to work as his cum spurted from his dick coating Randy's stomach and chest. Even getting some on his stubbled chin.

The way that Punk's ass convulsed and gripped his cock like a vice caused intense friction as Randy hissed through his teeth. It was all too much and he couldn't take anymore as he spilled into Punk's ass. He thrust through his climax and then held himself deep inside Punk as he tried to regain his bearings.

Punk by now had collapsed onto his chest in a hot sweaty mess and was currently kissing over his chest lightly. Randy hands cradled Punk's head lovingly as his dick softened and slipped free from Punk.

They rested peacefully for a couple of minutes before Punk finally spoke up. 'Wow!' That was all he could really manage.

Randy laughed lightly as he agreed that it was 'wow!'

With a huge effort Punk managed to lift his body off of Randy and sat back into his lap. He could feel Randy's soft penis resting against his ass and his lovers cum slowly trickling out of his ass. For some reason he hadn't worked out yet he liked that feeling. Maybe it was due to it being such an intimate thing to experience. The knowledge that he would only let one person in the world ever do that to him made it feel...special.

There was that word again. Special.

Randy made him feel special.

Randy sat up with Punk still in his lap and kissed Punk on the lips. 'We should really get cleaned up and ready for Raw.'

Punk nodded knowing that Raw was starting in a matter of minutes. It was just a good thing that neither of them were opening the show that night. 'You know what? I like this bus.'

Randy smiled and kissed Punk. 'Good. Me too.'

Punk then smirked. 'It's a good thing this bus has got a good suspension.'

Randy's laugh vibrated through his chest and into Punk. 'It definitely passed our test.'

After indulging in some post coital kissing and tender touching both realised that they really did need to move and get ready for Raw. They managed to tear themselves away from each other, but not before promising to test out the suspension on their new tour bus again later on that night.

...

It was late Sunday night and Extreme Rules had been a well received PPV by all involved, and Punk was happy with his match with Jericho. The crowd was electric as he knew they would be. The Chicago crowd always delivered in a big way. The thunderous ovation he received gave him chills and the loud chants of his name made his smile beam. The only other time he smiled that big in recent memory was because of Randy. Nothing could knock him off his cloud nine despite two things in particular not being particularly great.

First of all was during his match he somehow caught a rough shot to the head and it caused a cut just above his eyebrow. He brushed it off though, it was a minor injury, he had far worse during his career. Secondly he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed, angered and disappointed that in his hometown and as WWE champion he wasn't closing out the show. He was fuming when he heard the news initially, but once he was out there and the fans were deafening he decided to put on such a great show that his match would be considered the main event whether it was on that position on the card or not.

Randy meanwhile opened the show in a Wrestlemania rematch against Kane. Although this match had a slight twist; it was Falls Count Anywhere. Randy and Kane had brawled all over the building and eventually Randy picked up a hard fought win by dropping Kane with a vicious RKO onto a chair. It was a great match, and Randy was happy with it, but as soon as he was through the curtain he could feel the bumps and bruises already forming.

As the show progressed Randy waited anxiously for Punk's match. He knew that during a show Punk sometimes wanted to be alone; that was even more true when it was a big show like Wrestlemania or like tonight in front of his home town crowd, and get into the moment. Punk would usually be found stretching whilst blocking the world out with his headphones on and Randy suspected that would be the case tonight so he gave the man his space.

He watched intently, happy to hear the crowd explode for Punk. The pop he received was massive and he loved to see Punk smile and soak up the adoration. Randy watched enthralled as the match progressed, Jericho and Punk stole the show. Randy winced however whenever Punk took a brutal shot. And he took many. Randy thought to himself as he watched that he would kiss every painful mark inflicted on his man better once he got Punk alone.

But currently Punk was busy in the trainers room. Punk shifted in his seated position. The cut above his eyebrow was being tended to by the trainer, despite his insistence that he was fine and didn't need medical attention. He was barely cut, it wasn't deep and all the trainer really had to do was clean the gash and wipe the blood that had trickled down the side of his face away. Once the trainer had completed his job he left Punk alone in the room.

It took all of ten seconds for the door to swing open and Randy to walk inside. 'How long have you been waiting out there?' Punk asked.

'Pretty much the entire time you've been in here.' Randy admitted as he sat beside Punk. He took hold of Punk's chin and tilted his head back so he could see Punk's wound more clearly in the light. 'Are you all right?'

Punk moved his head from Randy's grip and looked at him disapprovingly. 'I'm fine. It's the most pathetic cut I've ever had.'

Randy looked back to the cut again and with his index finger gently ran his digit just above the wound. The finger ran down Punk's cheek and his thumb stroked affectionately.

'You're acting as if you were worried about me, Randy.' Punk smiled at the notion. Yet his heart beat picked up pace in his chest at the thought. For some reason the thought of Randy worrying about him made him feel...it was that word again.

Special.

'Would that be so shocking?' Randy asked as he rested his forehead against Punk's.

'Well, kinda. I've only ever been fifty percent sure you are human, but you know what? You've just bumped it up to sixty.' Punk smirked as he rested a hand on Randy's thigh.

Randy chuckled at Punk's words. 'Thanks. I think.'

Punk then kissed Randy lightly on the lips before resting his head on his lovers shoulder.

'Tired, baby?' Randy asked, as he felt Punk's body sag into his arms and Punk's head rest in the nape of his neck. Punk simply nodded, Randy kissed Punk on the cheek before getting to his feet. 'At least you can sleep in your own bed tonight, hometown hero.' Randy smiled.

Punk followed Randy's lead and got to his feet. 'Sleeping in my own bed sounds good. But sleeping in my own bed right next to you sounds even better.' Punk smiled, not even caring how mushy his words sounded. He must be really tired and beaten up to come out with something like that.

Randy felt a huge wave of emotion wash over him at Punk's loving sentiment. 'It sounds good to me too. So, lets get out of here.'

...

Two hours later they had finally reached Punk's apartment and after ditching their luggage in the living area both men made a beeline for the bedroom. After a much needed pit stop in the bathroom for both men, they divested themselves of their clothes and cuddled up in the crisp white sheets of Punk's bed.

Punk curled up into a comfortable position, with Randy's chest pressed tightly against his back. Limbs entwined as soft breaths tingled against the back of Punk's neck. He could hear Randy's breathing getting deeper and he knew the Viper had fallen fast asleep. And for once Punk himself quickly followed Randy into a deep and restful slumber.

...


	21. Chapter 21

**Well I hope you all had a great Christmas and are suitably fat now because you ate too much! And here is my present to you all, the next chapter! I was hoping to have this posted before the 25th, but I caught an illness bug that was going around :( I was in bed for days, but luckily felt better on Christmas Eve. Just in time. That was a close call lol. **

**So, chapter 21 is here...Enjoy my lovelies :)**

* * *

The hectic schedule of being a WWE superstar was currently wreaking havoc as it was keeping CM Punk and Randy Orton apart. For four long days they had been without one another. Punk had personal appearances and fan signings, and when he didn't Randy had a Smackdown house show to wrestle on. The couple just couldn't catch a break.

But now Monday had arrived. And Monday meant it was Monday Night Raw. Punk would finally be able to see Randy and have him back next to him in bed that night. The prospect had Punk feeling excited and giddy. He felt like a teenager inside, and despite knowing that he would mock anyone else for feeling like that he was quickly realising that he didn't give a shit about the mushy emotions that Orton brought out in him anymore. Initially he would bury those emotions or refuse to acknowledge them, but not now. Not anymore.

Could it be that the Second City Saint was actually turning into a hopeless romantic?

It was an hour before the start of the show and so far Randy hadn't been seen. Punk knew he was about because he heard his name dropped by Cena and Sheamus as they casually conversed in the locker room oblivious to Punk's eavesdropping. When Punk got to the arena earlier in the day he was quickly accosted for interviews and then dragged away for signing hundreds upon hundreds of photos of himself for the fans. He'd only just got back into the bustling locker room minutes ago and the face he yearned to see was disappointingly absent. He ignored the let down however knowing he would be with Orton soon enough and went over to Kofi striking up conversation with ease with his self proclaimed road wife.

A sudden thought occurred to Punk in that moment; he was no longer travelling with Kingston all the time. He was travelling with Randy most of the time when he could. So, was Randy Orton now his road wife? Maybe he was in a three way? That then conjured up scary images in his brain and he shook himself to get rid of the mental picture in his mind. That was nightmare inducing.

'So, you and Orton seem to be best buds now?' Kofi questioned out of the blue.

Punk wasn't expecting the question and his surprise was noted by Kofi. 'Are you jealous? Do you miss me?' Punk in a flash regained his composure and automatically went into full sarcasm mode.

Kofi faked a laugh before elbowing Punk in the side. 'I'm glad to be rid of you, man. Look, all I'm saying is that it's just weird seeing you two being so...buddy buddy.'

Punk scoffed. 'Buddy buddy? We're not buddy buddy. He's just not an idiot so much anymore.' Punk shrugged as he avoided the scrutiny that Kofi was watching him with.

'Okay.' Kofi relented. 'It still seems weird to me. I mean you two could barely stand each other a year ago and now you travel together. You're always talking to each other by yourselves.'

Punk guffawed again. 'I definitely detect some jealousy, Coffee.' Punk wittily replied, as he mocked Kofi's name knowing that irritated the man from Ghana immensely.

But underneath the humour he worried he was being horribly transparent. Maybe he protested too much? And if anyone in the locker room could read him like a book it was Kofi.

Suddenly the door swung open and as soon as he heard the door his head snapped around to look at the person that had entered. And there he was.

Randy strolled in and like a homing device their eyes met. A slight smile that both men tried to disguise rose up. Punk watched Randy walk through the room and settle on the opposite side of the room near to Cena, Rhodes and Sandow.

Punk regained his senses and tore his gaze from the Viper and looked back to see a questioning look on Kofi's face. If Punk hadn't already done a poor job at lying to Kofi about just how close Orton and he were then the display that Randy and he just put on may have just painted a very clear picture. After all a picture paints a thousand words.

He just hoped Kofi, and not to mention the rest of the roster were blind to it.

...

The usual chaos that accompanied the weekly live broadcast of Raw kept Punk and Randy apart for the following two hours, but once the end of Raw finally aired Punk decided on keeping his distance from Orton until they were safely onto Randy's tour bus.

Through the entire episode of Raw and all the time in the locker room he could feel Kofi's eyes watching him. It was as if Kofi was waiting to catch him out. To uncover Randy and his secret. The thought of someone knowing about his relationship with Randy made him sweat and shake with worry. He was happy in his relationship. Both Randy and he were in a good place and he didn't want anything to fuck that up.

Yet he knew if Randy found out about Kofi's questioning and surveillance job on them that night that Randy would most likely freak out. Punk wasn't exactly enamoured with the thought of anyone else knowing about them either, but he knew eventually it would be a formality. He just didn't want it to happen for a long time yet.

Another hour had passed as Punk got showered and changed, which was followed by a meeting with creative. But now finally he stepped onto the tour bus. The engine roared to life as the driver started their journey to the destination of Smackdown the following night that Punk would be appearing on.

Punk walked further down the bus to find the living area and kitchen empty, which left only one place for Randy to be. The bedroom.

Punk closed the door behind him and there lounging comfortably on the bed was the object of his affection. Finally together. Finally alone.

Punk practically launched himself onto the bed with his usual agility and athleticism and kissed Orton passionately.

'Miss me?' Randy replied with a grin. Seeing Punk so unashamedly forward was a sight to see. Lately he too had shed his inhibitions and had been honest with his true feelings when he was around Punk.

'No!' Punk lied. His actions told the true story though as he kissed Orton again. 'Well...okay, maybe.' Randy grin got wider, almost smug. Punk narrowed his eyes and poked him in the ribs. 'Shut up.'

Randy pulled Punk closer and initiated another scorching hot kiss. 'I missed you too.'

Punk's heart clenched in his chest. That feeling was becoming more and more frequent.

They kissed again, this time their tongues meeting and devouring each other. But soon the kissing morphed into more as clothes were thrown to the floor and the kisses strayed from each others mouths and down onto each others bodies.

Punk ground his hips into Randy's and was pleased to feel Orton in the same state of arousal as he. Punk wasted no time as he palmed Randy's length through the thin material of his boxers and once Randy felt his boyfriends hand Randy faltered in the moment of their kiss. The movement was unexpected, it was sudden, but once his brain caught back up he kissed Punk back with renewed vigour.

Punk slipped his hand inside the underwear and found his lovers rock hard member, it throbbed in his palm as he started to work his hand up and down the thick long shaft. Punk kissed along the chiselled jaw of the Viper before nibbling at his neck. He knew Randy always enjoyed that.

The slow and steady rhythm that Punk was using on his dick was driving Randy insane, he needed more. Much more. He let out a whimper and Punk's eyes instantly fell onto his face. No words were said, just a look and Punk's hand picked up pace and his fingers took a tighter grip.

Randy's hand slid from where they rested on Punk's back down to his waist and he worked Punk's gym shorts off his hips and down his impressive thighs. In no time they were thrown onto the floor with Randy's boxers following suit. Now both men were fully nude and nothing could hold them back. Not now that they were finally together. And finally alone.

Punk licked his lips as the tanned flesh of his man arched up off the mattress searching for his own body. He sent a devilish smirk down at Orton before leaning over him and stealing the breath from Randy. They eventually pulled apart gasping for oxygen, yet that didn't bother Punk or cause him to pause. He descended down his lovers lithe form, peppering kisses over the warm flesh before coming to a stop at Randy's waist.

He took hold of Randy's member again and licked a wet stripe up the underside of the shaft up to the leaking tip. Randy let out a gasp as Punk's tongue licked around the head and sucked on it. Punk rolled the Apex Predators balls gently in his palm as he took Randy further into his mouth. He took little time in setting a brisk pace as he took more and more inches into his mouth.

Punk could feel Randy's hips rise off the bed whenever he took him back inside and he could hear his boyfriends breathing get louder and the quiet moans then joined in. Punk got so caught up in listening to the reactions from his lover that he only became aware of the gathering storm outside when thunder clapped loudly above them. Punk pulled off Randy's dick with a wet pop.

'Sounds like a storm?' Punk mentioned as he kissed the engorged head of Randy's dick.

'Yeah.' Randy replied breathlessly. 'It's been going on a while.'

Punk sat up onto his knees and looked at Randy. 'Really?'

'Yeah, the rain has been hammering on the window for ten minutes. Didn't you hear it?' Randy queried.

Punk smiled and licked his lips. 'I was distracted.' Punk admitted. Truthfully he was completely lost in the way Randy moved. The way Randy gasped and moaned. The way Randy tasted. He often found himself oblivious to the goings on around him when he was in Randy's company, clearly evident from when Orton entered the locker room earlier that night and his attention immediately left Kofi and honed in on the Viper.

'Well, get distracted again.' Randy grinned, missing Punk's delightful actions on his body.

Punk smirked as he went back to work. He engulfed Randy's hot member, slurping and sucking on it before rising and falling on the length over and over in a fast motion that left him absolutely breathless. Randy was also struggling for oxygen as Punk's actions were driving him wild. Punk certainly knew how to make him feel good.

Punk kissed down the shaft and sucked each ball into his mouth gently, while his hands rippled down Randy's strong thighs. He pushed at the back of Orton's thighs and Randy complied with Punk's intention as his knees met his chest. Punk's tongue trailed south from Orton's sac and along to his ass. Punk parted Randy's cheeks and exposed his pink hole. Punk's dick twitched against the sheets beneath him at the sight, and then with the apex of his tongue he licked at Randy's opening.

Randy groaned as he felt Punk's wet tongue lick at his opening over and over and pushed inside his tight channel. Randy's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he reached blindly for anything to grip hold of. He found the curtains behind his head and as Punk pushed more of his tongue inside him his arms thrashed around whilst still gripping onto the thin black fabric.

Without realising it Randy had actually opened the curtains, luckily any other motorists; which were only few seeing as it was late and the rain was still falling heavily, wouldn't be able to see the couple as the weather impeded them from looking in as conversely it hampered Punk and Randy from looking out.

Randy arched his back and his eyes opened to see many streams of water running down the window of the tour bus. 'Oh, fuck!' He whimpered as Punk's tongue pushed inside as his hand worked over his pulsating cock.

Punk looked up and took notice of the curtains being open. 'Do you want to put on a show?' He grinned.

Randy looked down his body and shook his head indicating 'no'. Randy suddenly locked his strong thighs around Punk's waist and turned Punk over onto his back as he rolled on top of The Second City Saint. 'I kinda like the idea of fucking you in the middle of a storm though.'

Punk laughed. 'That sounds like a great idea to me.' He rested onto his elbows and kissed Randy quickly on the lips. 'So, what are you waiting for?'

Randy soon had Punk the way he wanted him; on his knees with both of them facing the window. The thunder rumbled and the lightning lit up the small room as the storm increased in ferocity. It felt as though they were in sync with the weather as their own lust induced intensity increased as Randy soon found himself fully sheathed inside the warm, tight ass of Punk.

Punk pushed back against Randy as he pulled out not wanting to lose the feeling of having Orton inside of him to the hilt, but Randy had no intention of stopping and instead pushed back into Punk with a strong snap of his hips that sent Punk falling forwards his head nudging against the damp window.

Randy took a firm hold of Punk's hips and sent his shaft burrowing into Punk's hole with more and more force and he set about at a rapid pace. Punk's moans got louder and more frequent as he was pushed and pulled by the forces that Randy was inflicting on his body.

Randy watched as his dick vanished inside Punk's ass, the sight one to behold and one he would never get sick of seeing. It was the most amazingly arousing visual he had ever witnessed. It never failed to set fireworks off in the pit of his stomach and cause his head to spin. The mere fact that Punk trusted him that much made his heart clench inside his chest.

Punk's moans turned to whimpers and cries of Randy's name as Orton found his prostate and targeted it with every entry. Punk reached his hands out planting them onto the cold wet glass of the window. The window was now clouded, an almost translucent effect due to the condensation.

Punk felt Randy's chest meet his sweaty back and Randy nuzzled into his neck and soft kisses peppered over his jaw. Randy's hand caressed down from Punk's shoulder and down his decorated arm until he covered Punk's hand with his own. Punk clenched his fingers around his and pushed back against his body and Randy's dick throbbed and twitched within Punk's ass and he felt his orgasm inching closer.

Punk and Randy's conjoined hands slid down to the bottom of the window leaving a smudge and a smear of Punk's fingerprints on the pane as the thunder rumbled even louder and the lightning lit up the night sky with a flash.

The synchronicity never faltered. The storm swarmed above them as each Superstar neared closer to his climax. Punk was pushing back more and more, meeting his lovers thrust wantonly as each man mumbled each others name. As Randy nailed Punk's sweet spot with greater force Punk let out a guttural moan and his head fell onto the pillow beneath him. His senses were overwhelmed as he was hit with the scent of Randy Orton as it lingered on the pillow and in the sheets surrounding him. It was a full scale assault and as Randy hit his spot again Punk wrapped his fist around his length and jerked off quickly and in time with Randy's quick thrusts.

Punk's ass met Randy's hips with a slap as Randy continued with his brute force, and as the Viper nailed Punk's spot again it drove the Voice of the Voiceless over the edge. He bit down onto the pillow to muffle his incredibly loud moans and groans; although an earlier thought of the driver hearing them didn't actually figure into his brain at that moment, he just really needed to bite something, as his hand worked on his dick as he found his release. Pools of cum fell onto the sheets beneath, his dick spurting out thick wad after wad of his seed as his ass clenched tightly on Randy's thick length that never relented with sliding inside him.

As he felt his lover reach his end, Randy knew he would soon follow. He felt his balls tighten and his dick throb. He was so close now. He heard the faint sound of his lovers soft gasps and then Punk's hand came to rest on his ass encouraging him to continue fucking him.

Randy sent his shaft inside Punk's tight ass one more time before he reached his limit. He held himself deep inside his boyfriend as he emptied all he had to give inside the tight channel. More and more cum escaped him as his vision faded to black.

Randy slowly came back to reality and as his vision cleared he looked down to see Punk looking shattered beneath him with his ass still high in the air, but his head still buried into the pillow. He made a few half hearted thrusts as his dick softened before pulling out of Punk. He immediately fell beside his man and as he looked over he was met by a satisfied look that was etched over Punk's features.

Punk smiled as he moved off of his knees and led down beside Randy. He kissed the Viper quickly before resting his head on Randy's chest. Punk suddenly remembered the storm outside. It seemed to have calmed as the rain could now barely be heard hitting the vehicle over the roar of the engine. The thunder had vanished and the lightning had desisted too.

It seemed the storm had reached it's crescendo at the exact moment they had. Now the storm had passed and Randy and Punk basked in the after glow feeling happy and relaxed.

...

After resting peacefully in Randy's arms Punk felt a nagging feeling in his gut rise up and a voice whisper in his head. All of Kofi's questioning and watchful stare came back to the forefront of his mind.

He knew Kofi was suspicious. He understood it must look odd. The niggling feeling he could feel in his stomach was trying to make him tell Randy. The voice in his head was telling him that the man deserved to know what was going on. Punk had reservations though. There was a good chance Randy would instantly go to the worst case scenario and freak out on him.

He mulled it over. But he had fell deathly silent for too long and Randy sensed a change in his body language. Randy shifted beneath him and Punk sat up in the bed. 'Is something wrong?' Orton asked.

'Why do you ask?' Punk fired back a little to defensively. Lately he had become really rubbish at hiding his true feelings.

'Punk, do you really think I don't notice when you have things on your mind? You turn quiet. And you don't fidget like normal.' Randy answered.

Punk smiled despite having a heavy sense of dread at what was to come. The smile arose due to Randy knowing him so deeply. Knowing his mannerisms.

He felt that feeling in his chest again.

'It's nothing to worry about, okay?' Punk reassured him as he turned to look at Orton.

Already he could feel some tension seeping into the small room. He held firm and bit the bullet. Randy needed to know.

'Kofi was just asking a lot of questions.' Punk watched Randy intently, he could see the muscles under the tanned skin tense. 'Questions about us.'

'What was he saying?' Randy asked, almost in two minds about whether he wanted to hear the answers or not.

'He just seemed a little suspicious about us getting closer. I told him that we basically found some common ground and realised we could actually get on. And that was it really.' Punk said, trying to come across nonchalant.

Randy wasn't fooled however. 'There's more to it than that. You wouldn't be so antsy if it was just that.'

Punk scoffed. 'Antsy? I don't get antsy.' He tried to deflect and change the subject, but he was unsuccessful.

Randy glared at him, wanting to hear the true story. And once Punk explained that Kofi seemed to find them travelling together on his tour bus rather suspicious and that Kofi seemed to be watching them keenly that night in the locker room Randy felt panic rise up from within.

'Fuck!' Randy yelled as he paced now that he was on his feet. He struggled for every breath as he felt everything tumbling down around him. He was absolutely panic stricken.

'It's all right, it's not like he knows about us.' Punk said, trying to calm the Viper down, but when he reached out for his boyfriend he recoiled from him.

That reaction hurt.

'Fuck! Shit! People are going to figure it out, Punk!' Randy replied as he paced frantically in the tight space of the bedroom.

The tension had now engulfed the room and it now had a claustrophobic feeling to it. The walls were closing in and soon they would be crushed within.

'Kofi doesn't know.' Punk attempted to reassure him.

'He's suspicious though. He'll figure it out soon enough and then everyone will know.' Randy had instantly imagined the worse and he felt like a deer in the headlights. He almost felt like his life was flashing in front of his eyes.

Punk got up from the bed and closed the small gap between them. 'Yeah, eventually they will find out.'

Punk knew that would happen if they stayed together. No secret stays a secret forever. And within the WWE locker room keeping a secret is nigh on impossible. He knew that it would happen, he just wished and hoped it was years down the line.

'I can't do this. I can't have people knowing.' Randy's worry had taken over his brain and his words came out harsh, not that he realised that in the moment as he was consumed fully by panic.

'Randy...' Punk tried to calm the man, but he was unsure of how to.

A storm was now starting to form inside the bus that would likely rival the one that was outside less than half an hour ago. It could certainly cause more damage.

'We've got to do something. We need to spend less time together. Travel separately or something.' Randy was barely breathing, his words coming out in a jumble.

But Punk deciphered the sentences and Randy's words cut him deeply. His hunch about Randy freaking out turned out to be true. Punk couldn't regret the decision to tell the Apex Predator though, he needed to know. It wouldn't have been fair to hide it from the Viper. Punk just wished there was a different outcome to his honesty.

'We've moved to fast, we should...we should slow down. Put some space between us.' Randy mumbled as he ran his hands against the grain of his short hair.

A furious stare focussed in on him then. Punk was shocked at Randy's words. That last sentence in particular hurt the most. It had taken a long time to get where they were at now. They had got through so many road blocks and now Randy wanted to hit the reverse button and take three steps back? Even though Punk could relate to Randy's panic, the cold and harsh words from Randy hurt him. As was often the case Punk felt his sorrow quickly morph into anger. And it started to take him over.

There was a completely different feeling in his chest now.

All that remained were stabs of pain.

Punk sensed the oncoming storm. Dark clouds were over head. Droplets of rain threatened to fall.

Punk's volatile disposition was threatening to explode, and he knew it would make the situation ten times worse. So, a rare occurrence happened; he removed himself from the situation. He grabbed his hoodie and threw on his gym shorts and left the bedroom, sliding the door shut behind him.

Randy made no move to stop him.

Their relationship was progressing so well for the past month. Punk shook his head bitterly as he sat on the couch. He should of known it was too good to be true.

It was the calm before the storm.

And although that raging storm hadn't arrived in all its destructive violence, the weather was far from perfect.

Punk and Randy were under a dark cloud now. The clear bright skies were fleeting.

Already a thing of the past.

...

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**Well, it was about time the drama returned wasn't it? Does Kofi know? Will this spell the end for 'Punkton'? I hope you liked it. :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello, again. I've had this chapter ready to post for days, but I didn't have the time to post until now! Busy little bee is me.**

**Is everything going to fall apart for the boys?**

**Enjoy :)**

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After a long nights drive; in which Punk had spent the entire time awake during his self imposed exile from the bedroom and from Randy, the tour bus finally came to a halt reaching the destination of their hotel room for Smackdown that night. It was early morning and the sun was just waking up.

During the night Punk had been unable to attain any rest. His mind racing about Randy and his earlier conflict. Shockingly it was one void of any shouting or violence, a rare deviation from the history books. Unfortunately though that didn't help put Punk's mind at ease.

Usually right after a fight with Randy he would be so angry and annoyed, but this time all he felt was a heavy sense of disappointment. His heart had sunk so far that if it was in the ocean it would have reached the floor by now surrounded by wreckages of ships.

In fact that could be what's left of his relationship with Randy. Nothing but a destroyed and broken wreck.

All night Punk felt torn between staying put or returning to Randy in the bedroom and attempt to ease his fears. He wanted to comfort Randy, to tell him everything would be okay, but there was also a distinct possibility that if he went back to Randy tensions would mount and an argument would explode and make the situation ten times worse.

So, the hours ticked by and Punk remained where he was. He had led on the couch that had plump cushions stretching along the three seats, his head propped up by cushions also. Randy never emerged from the bedroom all night, and Punk was actually grateful for that. If Orton had approached him he had no idea in which direction to take. He didn't know how to make this better. It was out of his hands. Out of his control. And Punk hated that feeling.

Randy needed to come to terms with the fact that their relationship couldn't stay a secret forever, eventually it would become public knowledge. And for all either man knew Kofi may not be onto them. It was one thing to suspect, but another to truly think something was between them. Even if Kofi did somehow find out it didn't mean he would broadcast it to the rest of the locker room or the world. Seemingly no other Superstar or Diva had mentioned anything.

Maybe there was absolutely no cause for concern?

Yet despite thinking that over and over CM Punk couldn't stop reasoning that Kofi wouldn't of questioned him if he wasn't suspicious and curious. He was a close friend. Punk could read Kofi, and it had then dawned on him that if he could read Kofi, surely Kofi could read him.

Maybe he had given the game away?

If Kofi truly did know about his relationship with the Apex Predator that filled Punk with dread and panic that would probably rival Randy's.

That was why he didn't blame Randy for his reaction. He couldn't. A relationship between two men would be a talking point within the wrestling community, especially stars of their calibre. Punk knew they would be scrutinised and put under a microscope and subjected to abuse by some narrow minded idiots.

Hell, maybe he should be panic stricken right now anyway and have the same thought as Randy.

That they should put distance between them.

Could it be that he was under reacting?

Punk's mind wouldn't shut up, a cacophony of voices and thoughts had kept him wide awake and as night drifted into day he decided to distract himself and immerse himself into his latest comic book. Once he was done he threw himself into another world as he found his earphones and blasted the Ramones at full volume. The distraction he garnered from his troubles was minimal.

As the music blared, he never heard the bedroom door slide open and Randy emerge. Randy walked past him and Punk couldn't help but look up at him. Randy looked back over his shoulder as he neared the front of the bus and their eyes locked. Punk could see that Randy had just as much sleep as he did. A sombre exchange ended when Punk turned from him and closed his eyes.

Despite having his eyes closed Punk could sense Randy's eyes still focusing in on him. He forced himself not to open his eyes, he didn't want to see those eyes that were so beautiful. It didn't matter though as he could see those now familiar blue orbs in his minds eye anyway.

Eventually Randy moved away and Punk felt a small sense of relief. Punk sighed, he was absolutely lost. He didn't know what to do or say. He just wanted this whole situation to disappear and to return to how he felt a mere twenty four hours ago.

Everything was fine twenty four hours ago.

Once the bus arrived at the hotel Punk walked back into the bedroom. He quickly shoved his iPhone into his gym shorts pocket and gathered up his luggage ready to leave. But then his eye caught something. There on the window was the smudge of his fingers. A sadness ran through him as he remembered what caused it. He realised that Randy and he could potentially never have that again.

Punk shook his head and fought back the emotion and turned around. But he came face to face with Randy. Punk wanted to say something. Randy wanted to say something. But nothing was said.

Punk moved past Randy, his heart sinking even further if that was at all possible and left the bus and immediately checked into his hotel room.

Randy watched Punk walk away. He didn't know what to do or say to stop him.

Could he really walk away from Punk and what they had found in each other just because of the prospect of someone finding out about them?

He wasn't sure.

...

Randy was thankful to see the back of Smackdown. He wasn't in the right frame of mind. He was distracted. His mind full of Punk. And only Punk.

Randy had noticed Punk was largely absent from the communal locker room that night. Only appearing briefly before disappearing again. He missed Punk. Just having Punk's presence near him made him feel alive, but not tonight. He felt lethargic. Almost lifeless.

He missed knowing that Punk would be waiting for him at the end of the night. He missed knowing that he could kiss the man once the night was over and they were alone. Right now he had no idea where he stood. Or whether he was still in a relationship.

Throughout the day he had realised that he had been an idiot with his previous thought of being unsure of whether he could walk away from Punk and end their relationship. He wanted Punk. He needed Punk. Punk was someone special to him. The most special person in his life. He without a shadow of a doubt did not want to lose CM Punk.

That epiphany still hadn't diluted his fear of Kofi or anybody else knowing about them however. The mere notion of anyone being aware of their relationship made him feel nauseous.

That night he was distinctly aware of Kofi Kingston's presence. He watched the man from afar. Like a snake in the grass he watched with his piercing glare undetected by the man from Ghana. He had never had any problems with Kingston, and by all accounts the man was considered a nice guy.

Maybe if he did know he would keep it to himself? After all Punk and he were good friends.

During the night Kofi had actually made eye contact and spoke with The Viper and Randy noted that Kofi interacted with him no differently than he had done in the previous years that they had shared a locker room. That put Randy's mind at ease by a fraction.

Now the locker room had emptied save for a few Superstars. Randy put his shoes on and as he tied the lace he saw Punk collect up his belongings and exit the room. Randy followed in a hurry.

He caught up to The Voice of the Voiceless as they neared the parking lot. He was still unsure of what to say. 'Punk?' He said, as he reached out for his lover.

Punk turned and tired eyes greeted him. 'What, Randy?' Punk asked. There was no anger whatsoever in his words despite the short reply.

'Can we talk?' Randy asked. He wanted to talk, he knew that they needed to. He was just confused as to how to make this right.

Punk looked solemnly at him. 'I don't want to talk right now.'

'But...' Randy started before being cut off.

'I'm not saying that to hurt you. I know we need to talk, but right now I just don't know what to say or do to make things better. And I'm scared if we do this now...it will end badly.'

Randy listened. He accepted that. He nodded at Punk letting the man know he understood.

Punk sent an almost apologetic look to The Viper, before shrugging. 'I'll see ya.' Punk looked at his boyfriend and apart of him wanted to kiss Randy with everything he had, but the issues they faced held him back. He turned from him and put the space between them that he felt they needed for the time being.

He needed to figure out the answer to the equation. He couldn't lose Randy. He didn't want to lose Randy.

But the obstacle they faced was one that was inevitable. And maybe this was one they just couldn't hurdle?

...

Randy peered down into his empty glass, the whiskey long ago drank. For the first time that day a smile graced his face, but it was far from genuine. The smile that had arose was one of disbelief. The whole scene in front of him was one he thought he had left in his past, but here he was again. An empty glass in his hand. His breath stinking of alcohol.

Every time he had problems with Punk in the past he had got drunk and that night was no different. There was no straying from the history book this time. A rueful chuckle then escaped him. How ironic was it that he was getting drunk to numb the pain of having a fight with his Straight Edge boyfriend? It would hardly impress Punk would it?

'Can I get you another?' The bar tender asked.

Randy looked up with unfocussed eyes. He was already hammered, another one wouldn't hurt.

'Sure. Another whiskey.'

...

Punk had been regretting his earlier dismissal of Randy's suggestion to talk. Ever since he had walked away from his boyfriend he had wished he had talked to him. They needed to sort this out, but the fact still remained Punk wasn't sure how to turn this thing around.

No matter what eventually people finding out about their relationship was going to happen. And if Randy couldn't deal with it, or if he couldn't for that matter than maybe it was better to draw a line under their relationship now and go their separate ways. The longer they stayed together, the harder it would be to walk away.

But if it is hard to walk away from, the question raised has to be; should you really be ending it?

Punk's thoughts were running wild and he couldn't switch his mind off and the small room was becoming cramped and claustrophobic. He snatched up his key card, phone and wallet and headed out the room with the intention of going for a walk in the chilly night.

Once he reached the ground floor and made his way across the lobby his ears pricked up at the sound of a disruption from the hotel bar. He peered over in the general direction to see Randy staggering around.

Once upon a time Punk would've been torn as to whether to go help him, or to walk on. Well there was also a third choice and that was to sit back and relax and watch Randy Orton do some dumb shit that would land him in hot water.

But this wasn't 2011 anymore.

The man he once despised was now the man he couldn't be without. Without much thought Punk ran into the bar and straight to Randy.

A man was yelling at Randy getting in his face as the bar man tried unsuccessfully to calm the situation down. As Punk reached the crowd he heard the man issue a threat toward Randy and that instantly didn't sit well with the Second City Saint.

He barged through people and put his body between the rage induced man and _his_ Randy. 'Back off.' Punk warned calmly. He didn't want to get in a fight, but if he had to he wasn't opposed to throwing a punch. Or two.

'What has this got to do with you?' The man shouted at him getting in his face now.

'What has it got to do with me?' Punk asked.

'Yeah.' The man nodded as his face was now red as a tomato looking like he was about to explode.

Punk started to wonder what the hell Randy had done to wind up the guy so much. 'He's my b...he's my friend.'

Punk almost let the cat out of the bag to a room full of strangers. Wouldn't that have been ironic considering what they were going through at that current time?

'So, it's got plenty to do with me you jerk!' Punk fired back, insulting the man in the process.

'Well seeing as you're this piece of shits friend you can give me the money he owes me for spilling his drink all over my expensive Tuxedo.' The guy snapped at him.

Punk then looked the guy up and down with a disgusted look on his face. 'From my point of view you should be thanking the man, he did you a favour. You look like a penguin. Seriously take the suit off and burn it. Nice clown shoes by the way.' Punk smirked his wit and bile coming out thick and fast.

The man narrowed his eyes at Punk and stepped into him. Punk didn't back down and his glare intensified. The man faltered and shook his head before walking off with his head down, and with an accompanying red face that Punk suspected was now of embarrassment instead of anger.

Punk then turned around to see Randy completely out of it. Punk wondered if Randy was even aware that he nearly got both of their heads kicked in. Well, potentially, it wasn't all that likely seeing as that guy looked like a pansy.

Punk was surprised he didn't feel at all pissed off at his boyfriends intoxicated state, he just felt sympathy. He understood what Randy was going through. They were in the same boat and Punk suddenly became adamant that they weren't going to sink. Not if he had anything to do with it.

He slung Randy's arm over his shoulders and put his arm around his lovers waist and began the long journey back to his room. He had to get out of there if only so Randy didn't throw anymore drinks on anyone else.

...

Punk returned from the kitchen area with a glass of water. He sat on the mattress beside Randy. The Viper hadn't moved from where Punk had dropped him on the bed. He was face down and mumbling something into the sheets that was inaudible to Punk.

'Randy, sit up a second.' Punk pleaded as he turned Randy over with great difficulty.

Randy looked up and smiled brightly as he saw Punk's face hovering above him. He reached out a hand and brushed the back of his fingers against Punk's cheek. 'You're so gorgeous.'

Punk was momentarily side tracked as he got lost in Randy's loving stare and words, but he regained his bearings and sat the Viper up and handed him the glass of water.

Randy gulped down the entire glass of water, his throat feeling ever so dry. He handed the glass back to Punk who then placed it on the bedside cabinet.

Punk watched on as Randy's eyes darted around the room and his head fell forward and to the sides. Randy was certainly feeling the effects of his late night bender as his body felt limp and uncoordinated.

'How did you find me?' Orton asked as he finally settled still on the bed.

'I followed the noise.' Punk replied. That was followed by a confused look from the oblivious Apex Predator. 'You caused quite the scene.' Punk clarified.

'I did?' Randy questioned.

'You almost got your ass beaten up because instead of drinking your last drink you instead spilt it over some toolbox.' Punk summarised the events that had taken place less than half an hour ago.

'I remember now.' Randy nodded.

Punk wasn't so sure. 'I don't think you do.'

'I do. I just don't really remember the dude. Or me spilling my drink.'

Punk chuckled with confusion. 'So what exactly do you remember?'

'I remember you being there clear as day.' Randy confirmed as those blue eyes honed in on Punk again, making Punk almost forget to breathe.

'Yeah.' Punk regained his composure and locked eyes with Randy. 'I was there for a little bit.'

'You protected me.' Randy smiled as he rested his hand on top of Punk's on the bed. 'Not that I needed it of course.' He added with a smirk.

'Oh, right of course you didn't.' Punk smiled as he intertwined his fingers with Randy.

He looked down at their interlocked hands. Still a perfect fit. Always a perfect fit.

'I'm sorry.' A quiet whisper came from Orton.

Punk's attention instantly returned to Randy's face. He saw the man looking sad, dejected and full of sorrow.

'I'm sorry I was an idiot. I don't want us to put space between us. Don't leave me.' Randy pleaded, his inhibitions truly lowered due to the alcohol consumption.

He may have been drunk, but his words spoke the truth. His hand held onto Punk's tighter, almost in fear of Punk walking away from him again.

Punk smiled gently and shook his head. He kissed Randy delicately on the lips and looked him dead in the eye. 'I won't leave you. It's not going to happen.'

Punk saw a smile rise up on Randy's features before strong arms wrapped him up in a tight embrace. He felt Randy nuzzle into his neck and his hand rub up and down his back.

Punk pulled back and placed another kiss on Orton's lips. 'Go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning.'

Punk knew Randy needed to sleep it off, and more importantly their all important conversation couldn't happen when Randy had so much alcohol in his system.

'Will you stay with me?' Randy asked, his eyes full of hope.

'Well this is my room, so yeah.' Punk smiled as he got onto the bed. 'I wouldn't be anywhere else than with you.' He added as he wrapped his arms around Randy, as the Viper rested his head on Punk's chest.

It wasn't long before Punk felt Randy sag heavier into his arms and his breathing deepen, a clear sign that Randy was fast asleep. Punk rested his head on top of Randy's and closed his eyes.

A memory surfaced.

It was from the first time that Randy had turned up at his hotel room door completely off his head. The night that Randy tried to kiss him. He couldn't help but chuckle as he remembered he sent his boyfriend flying with a heavy shove.

But that was months ago, and they had been on one hell of a journey since that night. Now when Randy leant in to kiss him, he was meeting him half way. He had tingles with anticipation. He longed for those lips on his now. He didn't want to think of a future without those kisses.

Punk was terrified about people finding out about Randy and he. So too was Randy. But they had been terrified before. When they first realised they were attracted to one another they were terrified. But look at what that attraction had blossomed into. Both were terrified about their first time together. Now they craved that intimacy and that euphoric feeling they brought out in each other.

Being terrified wasn't a new dimension for them in their relationship. In fact it was common place. They had navigated their way over those hurdles in the past. What was one more?

Punk reasoned that if Kofi knew then he knew. If he didn't then he didn't. That was totally out of his control. But what was in his control was the relationship he shared with Randy. He wasn't going to throw it all in the trash. No way.

Ultimately when the time comes for people to find out about them, whether that is today or a year from now they will deal with it and they will navigate their way over that giant hurdle.

Randy was apart of Punk now. And Punk was apart of Randy.

That couldn't be easily erased.

...


	23. Chapter 23

**OVER 200 REVIEWS?! You are all crazy awesome! I really can't believe it. Thank you so much, I never thought I would get so many. All the reviews, favourites and follows really do make me smile, so again thank you.**

**Here's hoping you all enjoy this chapter too. **

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Randy whined as the thumping in his head commenced as soon as he opened his eyes. He winced as he sat up, another jolt of pain wracked his skull. Every sound he made felt as loud as the drums at a rock gig and Randy internally cursed himself at his previous nights actions.

Then Punk walked into the room and instantly the pain in his head diminished. Out of the fog of his memory of last night came the memory of Punk protecting him from some loser and bringing him back here. He remembered their conversation too. He had worn his heart on his sleeve when he pleaded for Punk not to leave him, and he felt no regret about that.

Punk shook his head at him as he approached. He sat on the bed and handed Orton a glass of water and pain killers. 'You look like shit.'

Randy gulped down some water after swallowing a pain killer. 'Thanks.'

'No problem. Anytime.' Punk grinned.

Silence then descended on the room and both men knew what was coming. They both knew the topic that needed to be brought up. But which of them would broach the subject first.

The silence became deafening. Tension seeped in.

Punk sighed. 'This is starting to feel awkward.'

Randy chuckled lightly. 'Yeah, you can say that again.'

Punk looked to Randy and decided to bite the bullet and get the ball rolling. 'Look, I want you to know I'm not mad at you. At all. When I left the bedroom on the tour bus and slept on the couch I was up all night thinking about the situation. Thinking about us and the one thing that kept coming up more than anything was how much I don't want to lose you.'

Punk wasn't sure where he managed to summon those words from, but he was thankful he did. He always struggled to articulate feelings of that nature. Rather ironic seeing as every other emotion he could articulate so well. Especially anger. And sarcasm.

Randy couldn't hide the relief as Punk made it clear he didn't want to end their relationship. He smiled at the Second City Saint before resting a hand on Punk's thigh, squeezing it gently. 'I don't want to lose you either.'

'Good.' Punk smiled. 'I understand why you don't want anyone to know about us, and trust me I'm not ready for anyone to know either. I'm not ready to shout it from the rooftops. But if Kofi does know about us, then that's when everything gets confusing. I don't have an answer on how to deal with that.'

Randy watched Punk, and there in those green orbs was a man that was lost, unsure of what route to take, which way to turn. Randy knew Punk wanted to put his mind at ease, but he couldn't find a way to do it and seeing Punk so torn up over it made Randy's heart ache.

'I guess, if Kofi knows then he knows. Do you think he would tell anyone?' Randy asked.

'No. I don't believe he would. I'm certain of that.' Punk answered honestly. Kofi was a good friend. He was trustworthy, loyal and someone you could rely on. Punk truly believed that if Kingston did know about them that he wouldn't tell a soul.

'Then that's good enough for me.' Randy smiled. The thought of someone finding out about their relationship was still mortifying to him, but the worse case scenario certainly wasn't Kofi finding out. It could be worse. Much worse in fact.

'From now on we'll just be more careful.' Punk said. 'We'll put some space between us.' He suggested.

Randy's face fell in disappointment. 'You mean travel separately?'

'No. We'll still travel together on the bus when we can, just like we do now. But when we're backstage we won't be around each other as much. And in the locker room we'll stay away from each other.' Punk explained his plan. At least then the only time they will be near each other will be behind closed doors and no one will read into their actions.

'Okay.' Randy agreed. 'That makes sense.'

'I'll try and sound out Kofi a little too. See if I can pick up any hints as to whether he knows or not.' Punk said, making his intentions clear to Randy.

Randy ran his hand up Punk's thigh, before moving to his back. He leaned forward and kissed Punk on the lips. 'Do you think we were that obvious that Kofi figured it out?'

Punk kissed Randy on the forehead before shrugging. 'I didn't think so. But maybe we did become a little to comfortable and forgot to be careful. We probably started to be complacent.'

Randy nodded realising that the fact that they were always talking, often by each others side backstage, travelling together on his tour bus and not to mention sharing hotel rooms all the time would look suspicious and be a talking point. The odd behaviour would obviously be picked up by their closest friends.

'I promise I'll find out if Kofi knows or not. And I'll be subtle.' Punk promised.

'All right. I'm glad we talked.' Randy smiled as he locked their fingers together.

'Yeah, we're getting better at that.' Punk nodded with a cheeky grin. 'Now I think you should go for a shower and down a bottle of mouth wash because you reek of booze.'

Punk pushed Randy away from him and smirked as he got to his feet. Randy gave him the middle finger before conceding that he really did smell like he had bathed in alcohol.

...

It was another PPV night. Sunday May 20th was Over the Limit in Raleigh, North Carolina, and both CM Punk and Randy Orton were scheduled for big title bouts, but currently both had other things at the forefront of their minds.

Randy had just received a text from Punk telling him that he had talked to Kofi Kingston and to meet him in the quietest place in the building. Randy rushed past catering and down the hall taking a left. He was moving fast, the need to know what Punk had found out was immense. There was still dread lingering in the back and darkest part of his mind about what he was about to hear, but his pace never slowed.

He finally reached the end of the corridor and turned right to see Punk waiting for him. As Randy neared he saw Punk with a smile on his face.

His hope increased.

As soon as he reached Punk the Voice of the Voiceless confirmed that Kofi didn't know. Or even suspect. He relayed the entire conversation that had gone on between Kofi and himself and it seemed that Kingston was just a little surprised and curious about them becoming such close friends.

Punk had given Kofi ample opportunity to question him further on the extent of his relationship with the Apex Predator, but the man from Ghana never did. And Punk knew that if Kofi had any niggling thoughts he would always speak up and voice them. Especially to Punk. That's how they worked. It's what made them firm friends.

With their minds at ease and with a heavy sigh of relief from both they had a brief kiss. 'You know after what we've been through these last few days kissing in a corridor not the smartest idea.' Punk joked.

'Very true. The plan to keep our distance whilst at work is now in full operation.' Randy smiled.

Punk looked around to see and hear no one in the distance and grabbed Randy by his official Viper tee-shirt and kissed him lovingly on the lips.

'Good. Now go away.' Punk laughed.

Randy smiled as he took off, taking one last look back over his shoulder at Punk before disappearing round the corner.

...

The Over the Limit PPV was in full swing, Randy had just competed in a Fatal Four Way match for the World Title, but sadly wasn't booked to become champion. Instead Sheamus retained, after pinning Jericho.

Randy was still near the curtain talking with Sheamus about the match, although he wasn't exactly listening to the Irishman as he could see Punk in his peripheral psyching himself up for his upcoming WWE championship match against Daniel Bryan.

Randy knew the wrestling community was a buzz with anticipation to see CM Punk vs Daniel Bryan on the big stage. He too was excited to see the bout. Punk had already told him how stoked he was to finally wrestle Bryan in WWE. The fact that it was for the WWE championship made the occasion even more spectacular. Who would've thought two small indy darlings would be going one on one for the illustrious and most important title in the company? Punk was still surprised the match was happening even though it was mere minutes anyway.

Randy finished up his chat with Sheamus and tried to subtly make his way over to Punk. He looked around seeing that there weren't many people paying attention to their surroundings.

'You ready?' Randy asked.

Punk turned around and smiled when he saw The Viper. 'Yeah, I'm ready.'

'You best bring your A game. The wrestling world is salivating at the thought of seeing you and Bryan wrestle tonight.' Randy said.

'Thanks for adding to the pressure, moron.' Punk smirked.

Randy studied Punk's face and he could read that the man had something on his mind. Something was bothering him. 'You know for a man that is the WWE champion and about to wrestle a dream match, you seem a little flat.'

Punk shook his head. 'No, I'm all good.' His reply was clearly not true and Randy knew that.

'Punk, spill. What's up?' Randy asked as he stepped in closer to his boyfriend, trying to refrain from taking hold of Punk's hand or pulling him into his body for comfort.

Punk huffed. 'I guess, I'm a little pissed off that yet again Golden Boy is closing the show, and the WWE champion isn't.'

Punk understood why that happened at Wrestlemania, the match between Cena and The Rock was a year in the making, but for it to happen again in the two subsequent PPV's was a slap in the face.

Especially tonight, I mean John SuperCena vs. John Laurinaitis main eventing over CM Punk vs. Daniel Bryan? It was ridiculous and he suspected it was decided on to try and push his buttons. No matter whether he was WWE champion or not Vince McMahon wanted him in no uncertain terms to know that he would never be Vince's choice of the face of the company.

Randy sent him a sympathetic look, before shrugging at him. 'So what? Who gives a fuck? The fans know what the real main event is. All the boys in the back know what the real main event is. Go out there and kill it. It's like what you said at Extreme Rules, whether you're the last match on the card or not you're the main event.'

Punk smiled appreciatively at Randy, wanting to kiss him so badly in that moment. He held his desire at bay though as he saw techs and agents near them. 'You know you're pretty good at pep talks.' Punk smirked.

'Thanks. I know you'll be awesome out there. And it's not like you're a stranger to being the best match on the card whilst not being the main event match. Does Wrestlemania 27 ring any bells?' Randy smirked.

Punk smile shone brightly, their Wrestlemania match was certainly a great match up. The finish had one of the loudest pops of the night. Punk thought in that moment how interesting it would be to feud with Randy now that their hatred for one another was a thing of the past. Punk knew confidently that their feud would be a feud for the ages. He just hoped it would happen before either of them decided to hang up their wrestling boots permanently.

'You know the whole staying away from each other until after the show plan hasn't exactly gone well tonight.' Punk reminded the Viper.

Randy nodded. 'Momentary lapse. I knew something was on your mind and I needed to know you were okay.'

Suddenly Daniel Bryan's music hit and Punk spun around to the curtain. It was show time.

Punk's heart was thumping in his chest now and it had absolutely nothing to do with the raucous crowd in the arena. Instead it was all caused by the man standing in front of him and the words that came to him in that gorgeous voice that Punk longed to hear.

'I'll be watching.' Randy said before walking away.

There it was again. That feeling.

Punk watched the man disappear around the corner and he felt the wave of warmth spread from his chest throughout his entire body. The feeling was becoming more and more common now. Randy kept on bringing out that feeling in him. Randy made him feel special.

It then all clicked into place.

Punk was hit with an epiphany and it hit him as hard as a truck. He hadn't felt these feelings as deeply as this ever before. And surprising to him, it didn't panic him in the slightest. He couldn't pin point exactly what it was he was feeling before, but at that moment in time he suspected he knew what that feeling truly was.

No, he more than suspected, he thought it was abundantly clear to him what it was he was feeling.

...

Punk slowly made his way along the tour bus, his muscles screaming at him in pain during every step. Randy saw Punk grimace and instantly got to his feet and took Punk's luggage from off his shoulder.

'You okay?' Randy asked full of concern.

'Yeah. Just suffering the after effects of a match with Daniel Bryan that's all.' Punk smiled, trying to hide just how much discomfort he was really feeling.

'Do you want to go lie down?' Randy queried.

'Only if you're coming with me.' Punk smirked, his idea needing no deciphering. The WWE champion maybe feeling a little beat up, but he sure as hell knew Randy could make him feel a whole lot better.

As Punk lead him by the hand into the bedroom Randy felt reservations about Punk's plan. 'I don't know, Punk. You're not feeling great, are you sure it's such a good idea?'

'It's a great idea.' Punk replied.

He made quick work of Randy's tee-shirt before removing his own and pulling Randy on top of him on the bed. Randy was instantly aware of the red marks and welts marring Punk's skin. His fingers ran ever so softly over them wishing he could magically take the pain away.

Randy kissed Punk's lips, the tip of his tongue playing with the metal lip ring while his fingers ran from Punk's tattooed chest down to his rib cage. As his digits roamed over the bones and flesh Randy heard Punk take a sharp intake of breath.

He peered down at his boyfriend with greater concern. 'Baby, you're really hurt.'

'A little, but I don't want you to stop. Please don't stop, Randy.' Punk pleaded, he just wanted and needed to feel close to Randy right now.

Randy hesitated. His concern far outweighed his libido at that particular moment. However, Punk refused to make it easy on him as he palmed his erection through Randy's gym shorts. Randy tried to stifle a moan, but Punk knew he was feeling the pleasure and was swaying Orton to his way of thinking.

'I won't break. I promise.' Punk assured Orton.

Punk smirked up at Randy devilishly, and Orton felt his last ounce of restraint evaporate. Punk and he were insatiable for one another. They had been ever since their first time. But after the worrying possibility of being rumbled by Kofi Kingston, and subsequently discovering it to be a false alarm and a promise to limit their time spent together whilst in the public domain they now turned up the burner once reunited. It was like all day they had pent up passion and lust and as soon as they were alone it all became uncaged.

Punk ran a finger up the underside of Randy's impressive length after ridding the Apex Predator of his shorts and he was pleased to feel it twitch under the simple action.

Punk licked along the shell of Orton's ear. 'You're perfect. Do you know that?'

Randy smiled down at him and pinned both of the WWE champions wrists to the bed and kissed Punk hard. 'You're my perfection.' Randy professed.

Punk felt his heart clench and his stomach flip. And for a split second he thought he saw the same feelings dancing in his lovers gorgeous eyes. Moments passed as they gazed, lost in one another.

A soft caress along Punk's thigh brought him crashing back to reality. Randy's palm ran beneath Punk's gym shorts as Orton rolled his hips, his erection brushing against Punk's covered length.

Randy hooked his fingers in the waistband of Punk's shorts and they slipped off his hips. But as Punk raised his hips off the bed and lifted his legs so Randy could remove the article of clothing a jolt of pain bolted through Punk's ribs. His body was racked with agony as shooting pains ran up his spine.

Orton pulled away as a hiss accompanied Punk's pain. 'Punk, you're too hurt.'

Punk's face fell in disappointment. 'I'll be fine.'

Randy shook his head defiantly. 'I can't...I don't trust myself...'

Punk's disappointed look evolved into a proud smirk. 'You can't control yourself when you're with me huh, Randal? I make you feel too good?'

Punk's words were temptation personified, but Randy held firm. Then another idea came to mind.

Randy moved from between Punk's outspread legs and straddled his waist instead. Punk watched him move with the usual slick and smooth movements that encompassed the Viper and as Randy settled in his lap realisation dawned on Punk.

'Randy, I don't want you to do this unless...'

'I'm sure about this, Punk. I've been thinking about it since our first time. I've wondered what it would be like to be on the other side.' Randy admitted, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. 'I see the most gorgeous and beautiful looks on your face when I'm inside you. You always look so...I don't know.' Randy shrugged.

Punk's breath hitched in his throat. 'You make me feel utter bliss.'

Randy smiled warmly. 'I want to feel that.'

Punk felt his heart clench again, the knowledge that Randy trusted him so implicitly made him feel special. It made Randy even more special to him. It made their relationship even more special. It was if one word could sum all that up, yet Punk refused to accept that word. It wasn't a word that came easy to him. So, he brushed it off. But deep down, and in the back of his mind he knew it was to be true. It had found him. He hoped Randy felt it too. It certainly had him under its spell.

Randy raised Punk's hand to his lips and engulfed two fingers into the wet cavern of his mouth. Feeling Randy's tongue swirl and suck on his fingers drew out a moan from Punk, he had to force and fight his arousal down to keep himself from an embarrassing anti-climax. Randy smirked as he released the digits, they were now glistening with saliva and he brought them to his entrance.

Randy leant forward giving Punk easier access. Punk ran his index finger over Orton's pucker, running around it in teasing circles. Randy peered down at him, their gaze locked and Randy nodded giving Punk the sign to continue.

Punk pushed through the tight ring and breached Randy's hole. Randy instinctively clenched, but quickly forced himself to relax. Once Punk felt Randy untense he sunk his finger in up to the knuckle, before slowly easing it in and out not wanting to rush Randy. Randy had other ideas though, as he asked Punk for 'more', and as soon as Punk complied and rested two fingers at his entrance the Apex Predator pushed back against them until they were fully inside to the hilt.

Punk fingered Randy with a faster pace and scissored his fingers inside wanting to ensure Randy was well prepared. He wanted to make the experience for Randy as amazing as Randy had for him.

Randy rolled his hips needing to feel Punk deeper, his dick was leaking and pulsating with anticipation as it rubbed against Punk's belly. Punk watched enthralled at Randy's motions, the way he moved, almost glided on top of him.

Punk wanted Randy to feel it. To feel the electricity. The ecstasy. And when he pushed back into Randy's tight channel he curled his fingers and sought out Randy's sweet spot. Punk felt Randy's strong thighs tense and saw his eyes widen and his lip caught between his teeth. He had found what he was looking for.

Randy grunted as Punk hit his prostate again and again and he was buffeted at all sides simultaneously by the sheer pleasure and he fell forward onto Punk's torso, both palms planted painfully on Punk's chest to steady himself.

'Ah, fuck!' Punk winced, as he was reminded of the welts and bruises Daniel Bryan's kicks had inflicted.

Randy instantly sat back and felt Punk's hard length run along and rest between his butt cheeks. 'Oh, shit! Sorry.'

'I'm fine. Don't you dare stop moving.' Punk warned, not wanting the beautiful sight before him to cease.

Punk hit Randy's spot again and the Viper gasped and took a deep breath to calm himself. 'Maybe we should change to a position that won't hurt you?' Randy suggested.

'What did you have in mind?' Punk queried with a lust filled glint in his green orbs.

'How do you want me?' Randy fired back.

Punk smirked and as quickly as his damaged ribs would allow he had Randy exactly how he always wanted him since their relationship began; on his hands and knees with his long limbs stretched out, his tanned skin a stark contrast to the crisp white sheets beneath him.

Punk was captivated. The sight one of pure beauty. Randy laid bare before him, naked, hard and wantonly raising his ass in the air and pushing it back toward him.

'Are you just going to stare?' Randy asked as he peered back over his shoulder with a cocky grin.

Punk smiled at him. 'I'll wipe that smug grin off your face if you're not careful, Randal.

Randy chuckled. 'Maybe that is what I want.'

Punk ran a hand along the Vipers spine feeling the flesh tremble beneath his touch. Randy had trickles of apprehension, but not enough to dampen his excitement. Punk kissed along the vertebrae, down to the soft swell of Randy's ass. Randy felt cool air hit his ass-hole as it was uncovered by Punk parting his cheeks.

A gasp left Orton as he felt Punk's tongue lave against his loosened entrance and his fists clenched when Punk's tongue entered him. Randy was on the edge, his aching erection needing to feel more. He needed to feel Punk inside him now.

Without any shame he begged. 'Please, Punk.'

Punk steadied himself, positioning himself behind his boyfriend. He leant over to the night stand and dug around in the draw producing a bottle of Randy's trusty baby oil. Punk fisted his rigid penis, coating his shaft generously in the lubricant ensuring the entry would be as painless as possible for Randy.

Randy bit his lip as he felt Punk slip inside, and as every inch sunk inside his tight warm ass he felt a heavy sense of fulfilment take him over. Tingles ran from the top of his head all the way down to the tips of his toes. In that moment he knew just how deeply he had fallen for the Second City Saint.

Punk's head swam as he was now fully sheathed in Randy's tight velvet heat. Punk's hips rested against the globes of Randy's ass and every sinew of his body was on fire. He had never felt so aroused, he knew he wouldn't be able to stave off his orgasm for long, and as Orton circled his hips and clenched the walls of his ass around him he knew for sure that he most definitely wouldn't last long and that Randy seemed to be in the same state as he.

Punk held Randy by the hips and slowly pulled out. As Punk's thick length left his body Randy instantly wanted it back and Punk obliged with a shallow thrust. Soft whimpers escaped Randy as Punk started to find a rhythm and plunge deeper inside. Randy's slender hips pushed back against Punk creating a forceful collision as their bodies met.

Randy was writhing beneath Punk, his fingers clinging to the sheets as he felt the delicious feeling of Punk's shaft sliding perfectly into his body. The ecstasy coursed through his veins as Punk's dick hit his prostate.

Randy's deep voice rumbled loudly spilling out 'Fuck', 'Shit', 'Oh, yeah' and 'Punk' in different combinations over and over. Punk's pride soared as Randy let his appreciation be known, but Punk needed something else. He needed to see Randy's face. He needed to see the gorgeous face lit up with passion and arousal.

He pulled out and Randy whimpered at the loss of contact, but before he could tell Punk to get his dick back in his ass, Punk had turned him over onto his back and pushed at his thighs so his knees met his chest.

Randy grinned up at Punk, and it was returned instantly before Punk dived in for a kiss. Punk sunk his length back in and shifted back onto his knees and with ease fell back into the rhythm he had previously set.

Randy moaned louder than ever as Punk hit his sweet spot. He brought his knees tighter to his chest and widened his legs desperate to feel Punk even deeper. Randy bit down hard on his bottom lip and glanced down his body to see Punk's cock vanish inside his ass. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen and his dick twitched and slapped off his taut abdomen as Punk thrust back inside of him once again.

Punk's green orbs swam into ocean blue and he watched spell bounded at the most gorgeous and beautiful faces displayed on Randy's features.

'You look so fucking beautiful.' Punk whispered breathlessly.

Randy's heart pounded as he circled his arms around Punk's neck. 'I know the bliss you talked about. You feel incredible. You're my bliss.' Randy kissed him delicately on the lips.

Punk wanted to say it. He wanted to say it so badly. Just three little words.

But they never came.

Randy's hand slid from Punk and he took hold of his aching erection. His balls were already tight to his body, copious amounts of pre-cum was leaking from the tip. 'I'm close, baby.'

'Me too.' Punk confirmed as he drove his length deep into Randy.

Randy arched his back, pushing himself back into Punk's thrusts. Grunts and moans had no breaks in between anymore, they just got louder and louder as Randy jerked his dick faster and faster as Punk's cock continually met his prostate.

Randy still had one arm curled around Punk's neck and he pulled his lover tight against his body as he moaned Punk's name into his ear as he reached his climax. Never before had Randy reached such an earth shattering orgasm, as thick spurts of cum spilled from him and over Punk's and his stomachs.

Randy's whole body shook and convulsed underneath Punk. Randy's tight ass clenched around Punk's shaft tearing the orgasm from The Straight Edge Superstar as he sent his cock back inside. Randy locked his ankles tightly around Punk's waist holding him deep inside of him as he felt Punk's warm seed spill into his ass.

'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' Punk chanted as he rested his sweaty forehead on Randy's damp chest.

Punk's vision was a distorted picture of colour, almost as if he were looking through a kaleidoscope, his head was still swimming from his climatic high.

Punk's erratic breathing started to calm and he found strength to lift his head from the Vipers chest. Randy still had his eyes shut, his chest still heaving, and his feet ran up and down the back of Punk's legs as his hands mirrored the action along Punk's shoulder blades.

'You doing okay?' Punk asked, hoping that Randy was in no pain.

Randy's eyes crept open. 'What do you think?' He smiled.

Punk chuckled happily as he placed a fleeting kiss on Randy's lips. Punk knelt, his softening penis slipping free from Randy's body, but before he could move any further away Randy tugged him gently by the arm back on top of him and wrapped his body around Punk's.

'You're not going anywhere.' Randy informed him.

'I wasn't planning to.' Punk smiled against Randy's neck that he nuzzled into.

'That was amazing. You are amazing.' Randy gushed, still basking in the after glow.

'You are pretty amazing yourself.' Punk kissed Randy's neck and along his jaw.

'I never imagined...' Randy started before stopping unable to articulate what it was he was feeling.

'Never imagined what?' Punk asked curiously as the Viper fell silent.

'Nothing.' Randy replied, forgetting about trying to find the right words.

Punk rested on his elbow and ran a thumb along Orton's cheek as their eyes met. 'You never imagined it would feel so intimate.' Punk answered for him, and as he read Orton's expression he knew he was right.

Randy nodded his confirmation anyway. 'The end was so intense, and I didn't think it could get better than that. But then feeling you reach yours...feeling it happen inside me was...' Randy shrugged at a loss for words once more.

'I know.' Punk smiled with understanding. He felt the same when Randy was inside of him and reached his climax. That aspect made the moment even more potent and spectacular for Punk.

Punk kissed Randy deeply. Passionately. Lovingly.

Punk wanted to say those three words.

It wanted to escape now more than ever. And unbeknownst to him the Apex Predator was battling his own desire to reveal just how deeply he felt for the Voice of the Voiceless.

Their love was apparent. They both felt it in their hearts. But it still remained unspoken.

...

* * *

**This chapter was so fun to write. I was in two minds initially when planning this whole story out about whether Randy would bottom, because in this relationship I definitely see Punk as more of the bottom and Randy the top. But I figured that they'd at least experiment seeing as this relationship is new and their first with a man, so surely they would want to experience all the new aspects, right? Plus, I find the idea of Randy bottoming incredibly hot, and that's in part due to most writers seeing him as a top. So, when he does bottom it blows my mind because it's more rare lol. **

**Anyway, all is well for Punk and Randy. But will it last? I hope so. :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**So, CM Punk is no longer WWE champion. I'm not going to lie, I'm still pissed off about that. ****I don't think The Rock should be champion seeing as he's there for all of two months before he disappears again for the rest of the year. It seems a dumb move if you ask me, but I'd prefer The Rock to end the reign than have to suffer Cena ending it. Although we all know Cena will be champion come the end of Wrestlemania...just what I wanted. NOT! Cena vs The Rock again? No thank you! It sucked the first time. Second won't be any better. **But hey, on the bright side 434 days is an amazing accomplishment and Punk's entire reign was awesome! I'll now wait for the next one :)

**Anyway, now that I have vented and got that out of the way here is the next chapter. And guess what, Punk is still champion in this, so in my head he is still champion now...yes I am in denial. Leave me alone! :P**

******p.s. Punk looked naked without the title on Raw monday...all those times I wished to see Punk naked, that was definitely not what I had in mind. *sigh***

* * *

Two months had sped on by since Punk and Randy's close call at being discovered, and fortunately in the time that had passed they had raised no further suspicions in Kofi Kingston or anyone else for that matter.

As planned they had kept their distance during shows where many pairs of eyes could witness their growing affection, although on more than one occasion they had subtlety sloped off for a quick make out session when they could. Sometimes the temptation just couldn't be defeated.

Over the two month period their relationship had gone from strength to strength. Randy had now actually started to read some of Punk's comic books, and despite initial heavy and lengthy protesting how much he hated it, Randy now didn't mind watching the Chicago Cubs matches with Punk. He came to the conclusion that it wasn't all that terrible when he got to curl up on the couch with Punk whilst they watched.

Punk meanwhile had found himself playing on Call of Duty: Black Ops with Orton more and more frequently. He was never a huge gamer, but Randy was often on the X-Box and lured Punk into playing one night. Since then Punk had often engaged in battle on the game during the early hours of the morning when his insomnia was being a nuisance. Although Punk had discovered improvements in that area. He found himself having the most sleep he had in years when Randy was in bed with his arms surrounding him.

Despite the progression of ingratiating themselves in each others hobbies and interests, a certain part of their romance had remained frustratingly status quo in the past months.

That most important four letter word had remained unspoken, despite both men almost letting it slip. Punk practically bit his tongue off a week ago when he almost revealed his deepest emotions in the throes of passion.

Speaking of passion. Their insatiable natures hadn't weakened, and ever since Randy initiated his first time on the receiving end after the Over the Limit pay per view he had numerous times elected to be penetrated again. And every time Orton allowed Punk to enter him the Viper felt a surge of emotion and wanted to whisper his love for the Voice of the Voiceless.

Yet he too had remained silent.

It was an odd situation. Considering both men weren't exactly hesitant about voicing their anger, it was ironic that they could never seem to voice their more pleasant emotions. Punk especially was a loud mouth in most respects, but even he felt scared to tell Orton just how much he felt for him.

Another Sunday rolled around and it was a WWE PPV night. The Money In The Bank PPV was about to commence and Punk was pumped up for his match that night. Another match with Daniel Bryan for the WWE championship. Only this time it would be a No Disqualification match. And the X factor in the bout would be the special guest referee AJ Lee.

The pint sized diva was making waves in the company for the last few months and the crowd was eating it up. Punk liked the woman. She was down to earth, a comic book nerd, funny and an all round great person. On top of all that she clearly loved the wrestling business too. He was happy to see her in the spotlight.

Over the last two months on Raw and Smackdown a love quadrangle had developed in the storylines. It saw AJ torn between her past love Daniel Bryan, or 'Goatface' as Punk so politely christened him, and CM Punk. Kane too was also involved for a short spell, but he exited the feud after the previous months No Way Out event.

Punk had been greatly amused by Randy's tantrum over seeing him kissing AJ onscreen. The first time Randy seemed fine with, probably because a fraction of a second later Punk was pushed off the turnbuckle on top of Daniel Bryan and through a table.

But the second time, when the kiss had to be a lot more heated, Randy's possessive anger boiled over. Punk actually felt happiness and that familiar clench in his chest at Randy's possessiveness over him. Punk made it crystal clear to Randy that it was just work and he was the sole person that Punk wanted to kiss and it resulted in some phenomenal sex later on that night on their tour bus.

Punk was embroiled in this feud and was enjoying the twists and turns in the story. The fans seemed to be enjoying the roller coaster also. So, it was puzzling to Punk to see yet again he was passed over as the main event of the PPV. By now he just shrugged it off, no matter where he was positioned on the card he had the mindset that he would be the main event. His confidence unwavering. And if his performances at this years PPV's were anything to go by he most certainly was the best match on Sunday nights.

Randy meanwhile, found himself in the main event as he was booked in a Money In The Bank Ladder Match for a shot at Punk's WWE title. Once the Apex Predator had learned of his position on the card he shot an apathetic look over at his boyfriend and was relieved to see the absence of any anger. Randy wondered if he was more pissed off at the situation than Punk. It was truly ridiculous. He knew it. The guys and girls in the back knew it. Yet management couldn't see it...how convenient.

The night rushed on by and Punk's title reign continued as he pinned Bryan after a brutal crash landing through a table. AJ had teased her allegiance to Punk, and then to Bryan and back and forth again, before ultimately calling it down the middle and counting the three. As Punk returned through the curtain all hot and sweaty from the exertion of his match he caught the Viper lurking in the distance. A subtle tilt of the head signalled Punk to follow in Randy's footsteps.

Punk was stopped by some of his fellow Superstars, all of them giving him props and congratulations on another sterling and show stealing bout with Daniel Bryan. He appreciated the sentiment, but he wished they could save it for later as all he really wanted was to be with Randy again. He often found himself yearning to be with Randy in the confines of the tour bus, or a hotel room, or his home in Chicago...just to be alone with The Viper was constantly what his heart cried out for now.

Eventually he located Orton, after navigating through a labyrinth of corridors and in a secluded spot Randy devoured his mouth as soon as he rounded the corner.

Punk gasped for air, but his lips never left Orton's. 'Randal, have you forgotten the whole lets keep our distance plan?'

Randy slid his arms around his waist palms resting on Punk's sweaty lower back. 'I haven't forgotten. But I wanted to tell you how great you were out there.' Randy smiled affectionately as he kissed along Punk's cheek and down to his neck. 'And how sexy you looked out there.' More kisses peppered over Punk's skin. 'And how sexy you look right now.'

Punk's eyes flickered shut, the soft touch of Randy's lips were causing his skin to tingle and his dick to swell inside the tight fabric of his trunks. 'You really, really need to stop.'

Randy let out a disgruntled groan. 'But I really, really don't want to.'

Punk didn't want him to stop either and then Randy's hand slid under the fabric of his trunks and took hold of his growing manhood. Punk moaned with arousal. 'You gotta. Or else I will drag you into a locker room and fuck you senseless and you'll wind up missing your match.'

'Screw it. I'll skip it.' Randy grinned as he ran a digit up along the underside of Punk's now rock hard shaft.

Punk bit his lip to stifle another moan, and he somehow found his resolve. He took hold of Orton's wrist and guided Randy's hand out of his wrestling attire. 'Match. Now.' Punk grinned. 'We'll pick this up later.'

Randy pouted, and Punk was torn between laughing or finding the sight ridiculously cute. Cute? CM Punk doesn't do cute. Or he didn't. He truly had fallen in love with the man in front of him.

'I'll hold you to that.' Randy claimed before kissing Punk quickly on the lips before hastily returning to gorilla position for his upcoming match.

Punk couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. He wasn't sure anything could. Even as he showered and got dressed, the smile was etched onto his features. Punk had been tenacious in his battle to refuse the notion of love in Randy and his relationship. But now he had forfeited. He had officially thrown in the towel and readily admitted that he was in love with Randy Orton.

Now all he needed to do was proclaim that to Randy.

The Voice of the Voiceless was about to drop a very special pipebomb, and he had never felt nerves rack his body as ferociously as they were that night.

...

The Money In The Bank PPV had reached its conclusion over an hour ago, but Punk had hung back and stayed in the locker room talking to Kofi, Truth, Bryan and others. It was originally intended to distract him from what he was about to reveal to Randy, and to stay true to their agreement of attempting to keep space between them at work. But as time went on he found himself engaging enthusiastically in the conversations with his friends and losing track of time.

Truth be told Punk knew he had neglected his friendships for the vast majority of the year. As WWE champion, one of the biggest merchandise sellers and the most in demand Superstar in the company he had spent less time with the boys. Add on top of that his free time was largely taken up by Randy and their blossoming romance since January it left little room to just hang out with his friends.

Punk was engrossed in their conversation only losing focus once when Randy returned from the ring. He managed to hide his gulp at the sight of Randy's tanned skin glistening with sweat from his circle of friends and regained his composure in a flash and slotted back into the conversation.

But now he was losing all focus. His attention span was at an all time low as he knew Randy would be waiting for him on the tour bus. He had seen Randy leave out of his peripheral five minutes ago and he could no longer procrastinate. It was time.

It was now or never.

Punk tried to calm his breathing, to regulate the thudding beats of his heart as he made his way to the parking lot. He barely acknowledged the people backstage that smiled or greeted him, he was just too caught up in his own thoughts. He was going over what he would say to his boyfriend and how he would initiate the conversation. And every single option sounded ridiculous in his own head, so fuck knows what Randy would think. Punk could feel his heart in his mouth.

He approached the tour bus and noticed the driver was absent. He climbed the steps and made his way along the vehicle, but before he could call out for his lover he heard Randy's deep voice in the distance.

Punk was curious as to who he was talking to. Was someone on the bus? He neared the bedroom where Randy was located and then Randy's words stopped him dead in his tracks.

'I'm with someone.' Randy announced.

Had Randy just revealed to someone that they were dating? Admittedly he hadn't revealed Punk by name, but Randy had let the person know that he was in a committed relationship.

Punk heard no reply from Randy's conversational partner.

'It doesn't matter who. It's none of your business really.' Randy said.

His words appeared harsh , but his tone lacked that bite. Punk had now come to the conclusion that The Viper was on his cell. Punk was about to walk into the bedroom, but again he halted.

'No. No, it's not that serious.' Randy mumbled.

But Punk heard it as clear as day. He felt his stomach drop. Not that serious? It sure as hell felt serious to Punk. He thought it did to Randy too. It was serious enough for him to say to Randy that he was in love with him. A million thoughts passed through Punk's mind.

He gave Randy the benefit of the doubt and rationalised that Randy was just playing it down to whoever he was conversing with. The more he made it out to be casual, the less the person on the other end of the phone would question and that would mean less to answer.

Randy remained silent. Punk waited with bated breath. He knew he was intruding on a private moment, but he just felt like there was something wrong.

'You know I miss you too.' Randy's voice finally sounded again.

His intuition proved correct as Punk took another shot. He felt the early signs of his world unravelling, his mind racing over who Randy was speaking to. The conclusion he jumped to was that Randy was involved with someone else behind his back. He was torn between storming inside and demanding to know the truth or turning on his heels and fleeing the scene.

'Look, I've gotta go. Yeah, I'll speak to you again soon.' Randy confirmed.

Then four words shattered Punk's world.

'I love you too.'

The bitter taste of irony was not lost on Punk. Everything slipped away from Punk in that second. Sight. Sound. Touch. He felt like he was drowning as a myriad of emotions enveloped him. He was struggling for breath. Trying desperately to scramble to the surface and to breathe again.

Randy loved someone?

Punk truly believed that what he had found in Randy was reciprocal. The way Randy was with him, the trust they had found in one another, the way Randy looked at him. Was all that just imaginary?

Punk started to feel nauseous. He clamped his hand over his mouth as he felt a twist in his stomach. He pushed the feeling of vomiting down. He needed to get away from Randy and off the damn bus. He turned and stumbled down the tour bus and almost tripped down the stairs as his body felt numb.

Sadness ran through him. The hurt unparalleled. He gritted his teeth and fought the tears welling up in his eyes.

CM Punk's heart actually ached.

Those four words that left Randy's lips spoke volumes. It needed no explanation.

Randy loved someone. A someone that wasn't him.

Punk made his way across the parking lot in a flash, re-entering the building. All the walls and doors were a blur as he staggered along the hallways. He neared the locker room, but came to a sudden halt. He fell against the wall and slipped down the breeze block until he was sitting.

He held his head in his hands. He ended up defeated as he lost the war against his tears as one ran free and slid down his cheek. Rapid breaths tried to calm him and keep him from breaking down completely.

He destroyed any evidence of his tears as he wiped them away with his forearm. He took deep breaths and steadied himself. He struggled back to his feet. He honestly felt like he was shutting down. Physically and mentally.

He hoped Kofi was still in the arena, because he had no other transportation to the hotel. He knew there would be questions from his close friend, in fact it would probably be more of an interrogation once Kingston saw him.

Punk knew Kofi would not believe the lie that Randy and he had an argument, but the devastation he felt was too much for him to care about arising suspicion about Orton and his relationship.

But now that relationship was dead in the water. The final nail in the coffin of Randy and his relationship was all but hammered in.

CM Punk's heart sank into a pit of anguish. He had fallen. And he had fallen from the greatest of heights. All that remained of him was a heartbroken wreck.

Their relationship was born in the flames of war. He was a fool to think that fire had been extinguished. The embers had remained lit the entire time, and like a phoenix rising from the ashes the fire raged once more.

And all along he had been naive to think he wouldn't get burnt by the flames.

...

* * *

**Has there ever been more drama than that before in this story? Does this spell the end for Punkton?**

**Hope you enjoyed! :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**So, the last chapter was rather dramatic. And mysterious as to who Randy was talking to. Will we find out this chapter?**

**p.s. CM Punk vs Chris Jericho on Raw this week was amazing! A flawless match. An early candidate for MOTY. And Punk still looks the wrong kind of naked without the title.**

**Edit: I'm really sorry for all the confusion! Fanfiction wasn't updating any stories properly all day yesterday, the website had some problems. Unfortunately I didn't know until it was too late. I had already tried updating which sent out the email notification. It was all very annoying. But not my fault lol. Hopefully it does work this time...pretty please? 5th time lucky?**

* * *

Punk's cell vibrated against his leg and he silently cursed as he retrieved it from his jeans pocket. He knew who it was contacting him. It was Randy Orton.

He had already called three times and sent numerous texts wondering about his whereabouts. He gathered it must seem odd to Orton him not showing up on the bus and subsequently disappearing and being incognito. But right now, he couldn't face him. It was all too raw. Too painful.

Punk had tried to tell himself that he had jumped to conclusions and there was a simple explanation as to who Randy was conversing with. It was part of his DNA however, he would often find himself jumping to conclusions before actually attaining the facts. His frantic mind jumped immediately to the worst case scenario of Randy cheating on him and he just couldn't erase that thought, no matter how hard he tried. In the pit of his stomach he just knew that the truth would hurt. It wouldn't be a misunderstanding. His world was going to fall apart.

Jumping to conclusions was a hard habit to break for CM Punk. Especially when it came to matters that were most important to him.

As predicted Randy's contact information flashed up on his iPhone. He was torn between reading it or ignoring it. Ultimately he did what he had done with all the other texts; read them. Even thinking the worst about Randy he still wanted to see a text from The Viper. Or even hear his voice on a voicemail. He hated that. But it was the truth.

_Text received: 1.51am_

_from: Randal Orton_

_Punk I'm seriously worried now. Where are you? Why didn't you show up on the bus? Please just let me know your ok. R x_

Guilt now started to gnaw away at him. He didn't want Randy to worry and think he was dead in a ditch somewhere. He never liked the thought of Randy being worried or upset. Punk then shook his head and laughed bitterly.

Why the hell was he feeling guilty? Why should he? Why wasn't he feeling anything but disdain for Randy Orton right now?

Punk's laugh faded in a hurry. He knew why. Because even though his heart was fractured by the Viper, he still loved him all the same.

He glanced at the text again. A fleeting notion of replying to Randy to at least let him know he was safe passed in a flash. Instead he felt anger building up. Orton didn't deserve anything from him, Punk then threw his cell onto the carpeted floor.

Punk was so lost in his own dark abyss he wasn't even aware of his friends eyes keeping watch on him from across the room. Kofi had watched The Second City Saint sit there for hours. The WWE champion had barely talked. Barely blinked. Barely moved. Kingston worried that Punk was bordering on falling into a catatonic state.

Once Punk had found him in the locker room and asked for a ride and to crash in his hotel room he sensed something was amiss. Punk just stared out the window on the drive to the hotel, not even registering any words that were spoken to him. Once Kingston had gained Punk's attention the man was distant, and when queried why he wasn't with Orton Punk had been dismissive and cagey.

Kofi wasn't stupid he knew something had happened. And to rock a man as tough as Punk so severely, it must have been something huge.

Kofi approached the Straight Edge Superstar and sat at the foot of his bed. 'Punk?'

Punk turned to him, but made no reply.

'What has happened, man?' Kofi asked.

Punk shook his head and turned from him. 'Nothing.' Came the quiet reply.

'Punk, I've known you for how long now?' Kofi asked rhetorically. 'I know you. You're my friend and I know when something is wrong with you.'

Punk sighed. Apart of him was willing to reveal everything. He needed to unburden himself and get it all off his chest, but he still held back. It wasn't just his secret to tell. Underneath all the sorrow, he was still thinking about Randy's wishes also.

Not to mention if he did reveal the truth to Kingston he knew Kofi would ask question after question. And all he would be reminded of would be Randy. That was the worst thing possible. He just wanted to forget. He just wanted to block everything out. He wanted to shut the world out.

'Have you and Orton had a bust up again?' Kofi pressed. Whatever was going on with CM Punk it had to be linked to Randy. Why else would Punk need a ride and somewhere to crash? He knew it had to be more than a fight with the Apex Predator though to account for Punk's emotional reaction.

'You know you can trust me. Whatever you say is between you and me.' Kofi assured him, he was running out of ways to breakthrough.

A knock on the door startled Punk as it sliced through the silence of the room. Punk rested his head on his knees as he brought them to his chest as Kingston stood up and rushed over to the door. 'Who is it?' He questioned.

'It's Randy.'

Punk immediately snapped his head up and he felt his heart pound in his chest. Kofi turned to him questioningly. Punk shook his head. It was all he could manage.

Kofi opened the door marginally and looked through. 'Oh, hey Randy. What's up?'

'Is Punk with you? I can't get in touch with him.' Randy asked, the concern clearly evident.

'Err...no. I haven't. Last time I saw him he was about to leave the arena.' Kofi lied, hoping that his deceit wasn't obvious.

Randy cocked his head to the side, his ears pricking up to listen out for any sign of Punk. Kofi wasn't an expert at deception and Orton had seen right through the attempt. 'Right. I just need to know he's okay.'

Kingston avoided eye contact and focussed in on the floor. 'When I see him I'll tell him to contact you.'

'Thanks.' Randy shifted, he knew Punk was in that room. So, why was he hiding from him? He was so confused. What had happened?

'No problem. Bye.' Kofi swiftly replied eager to cut this conversation off.

Just as the door was about to swing shut Randy planted both hands on the wooden panel and with all his strength he forced it open sending Kingston stumbling backwards. Randy steamed into the room and instantly laid eyes on Punk.

Punk just stared back not uttering a word. Too many emotions where whirling around his body and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

'I'll...be outside.' Kofi mumbled as he made a hasty exit into the hallway.

Randy approached Punk, but as soon as he was in close proximity to the bed Punk stood and moved to the open area of the hotel room.

'What is going on, Punk?' Randy asked with complete bewilderment.

Punk ran his fingers through his hair trying to keep calm. Trying desperately to keep his emotions in check. He wasn't even sure what emotion would explode first, but whichever one it was he knew that no good would come from conversing with Randy at that particular moment in time.

He wasn't ready for this. Not yet. He was barely functioning right now.

'Punk, please just talk to me. I don't know if I've done something wrong or...' Randy paused when Punk chuckled derisively. 'Why have you been ignoring me?'

'Get out.' Punk snapped refusing to engage with the Viper.

'No. I need an explanation.' Randy said standing his ground. 'I don't get it. I don't know what's happened. Just tell me and I'll fix it!' Randy pleaded.

Punk buried his head in his hands and shook his head. 'You can't fix it. Just go. Get out. Leave me alone.' He mumbled into his palms. This was too much to bare.

Randy's brow creased as he watched Punk falling apart. He had been worried for hours over Punk's disappearance, but now he was worried about his boyfriend more than ever. He reached out for him wanting to comfort him, but once his hand touched Punk's arm the Voice of the Voiceless snatched his arm free like his touch wounded him.

'Get out!' Punk bellowed. 'Get the fuck out!'

Randy was at a loss for words. Everything was crashing down around him and he had no idea what had caused it. He neared Punk again, cornering him against the door. 'Baby, just talk to me.'

Once Punk heard that familiar term of endearment it made his anger boil in his blood. It seared. He looked Orton dead in the eye. His glare was ferocious and he threw the door open and shoved Randy threw it.

'Don't call me that ever again. Stay the fuck away from me! We're over.' The last two words came out quietly, almost reluctantly, but it did what intended as Randy reluctantly walked away with his head down in defeat and confusion marring his thoughts.

Punk tried to calm down and as he returned into the hotel room he heard the door close behind him. It startled him and as he looked over his shoulder he saw Kofi stood there with a shocked look on his face.

Punk had totally forgotten Kofi was out in the hallway, his mind fully preoccupied with Randy Orton. He had heard Punk tell Randy they were over. That had painted a very clear picture. The truth was out there now.

Punk quelled the tears that threatened to fall and just shrugged at Kofi. 'Now does it all make sense?'

...

Revealing what he had been hiding for months was a cathartic experience for Punk. Scary, but a relief nonetheless. Kofi was shocked at the revelation, but didn't question its authenticity. It was clear from Punk's state that night and the emotional timbre in his voice whilst explaining it to him that his words were gospel.

Punk retold Kingston the entire seven month journey that he had been on. The ups and the downs. He admittedly left out the more personal and intimate details, but during the hours that he talked with Kofi about Orton and the relationship they embarked on he felt pain. Actual physical pain. His heart ached as previously fond memories flashed across his mind. Now they didn't feel as special. Now they were hollow. Now they were tainted.

Punk had actually expected Kingston to be more inquisitive. To challenge him on the decisions he had made that year. He expected Kofi to accuse him of being insane, but as was often the case with the man from Ghana he just listened and was supportive. Punk silently thanked him for that.

Punk felt a smidgen of the pain vanish after talking with Kofi, but he still wasn't granted any sleep that night. No, the Chicagoan had led there as the hours ticked by hopelessly wishing that a certain Viper was still led beside him so he could curl up into his strong tattooed arms and listen to the strong heartbeat that sounded through the chest he would rest his head upon. He always managed to rest more with Randy by his side.

But Randy Orton wasn't there. And he wouldn't be there ever again. Punk was alone. He thought to himself in that moment that he should've always stayed that way.

...

Working on zero hours sleep was never fun, and never a good thing for CM Punk's mood. Many had been the recipient of the Second City Saints barbs at Raw that night. He certainly took no prisoners when he unleashed tirade after tirade.

Once left alone in the silence of the locker room he realised he was unleashing all his rage on everyone but the man that had caused it. Randy had been spared that night as Punk made sure to avoid the Apex Predator at all costs. From a distance Punk had spotted Orton. He seemed distant from his friends and he looked miserable.

'Good' was Punk's main thought to that. 'Now he knows how I feel.'

It was the early hours of Tuesday morning and sleep was alluding the Straight Edge Superstar for the second consecutive night. Punk clenched his fist and gritted his teeth at the knowledge that his heart was still crying out for the man that broke it.

He felt weak. Pathetic.

A soft knock on his door surprised him. It was almost three am, he wondered who would want to see him this late.

As he approached the door Punk asked who was on the other side.

'It's me.' Punk forgot to breathe for a split second as he heard Randy's deep voice through the wooden panel. So many times he had craved to hear that voice. Now he tried to kid himself into thinking it was unwanted, but even though his head told him that, his heart still skipped a beat upon hearing it.

Despite Punk's better judgement he found himself opening the door. Randy stood there looking shattered. His eyes were red and he had bags under his eyes.

'Please don't slam the door in my face. I just want to see you. I need to know what I've done wrong. I don't understand what's happened and why you finished it.' Randy said, as his words came out thick and fast.

Punk stared back with a blank look on his face. He was unsure of what to do. So he remained still. Stoic. Unmoving.

Randy shrugged and a faint nostalgic smile swept over his features. 'Remind you of anything?' He asked, alluding to the many times he had shown up at Punk's door in the past.

That small sentence sparked Punk into action. His face hardened and turned stern. 'No, it doesn't remind me of anything. Every other time you showed up apart of me was happy to see you.'

Randy was taken aback by the scathing words that left Punk's mouth. He couldn't understand this. What had happened to Punk for things to change so drastically so damn suddenly? He needed answers. 'Punk, what have I done?'

Punk looked Randy dead in the eye. If looks could kill Punk would be up for a murder charge. Although in the deepest depth of those green orbs love still remained in there. He still felt it. 'How's your cell phone buddy?' Punk questioned cryptically and his body language oozed hostility.

'Cell phone buddy?' Randy queried dumbfounded.

'Yeah. The person you were on the phone with on the tour bus after Money In The Bank last night? You know the person you love?' Punk spat out.

Randy's face fell as it all became clear. He shook his head and utter a quiet 'Fuck.' Randy felt guilt overwhelm him as he realised what Punk had been going through for the last twenty four hours. 'Punk, just let me explain.'

'What is there to explain, Randy? You were cheating on me, right?' Punk yelled. He couldn't restrain his anger and sorrow as it started to pour from him.

'No! I'm not, I...it's...' Randy was discombobulated. He didn't know what to do or say to make this all go away.

'Don't fucking deny it, Randy! I fucking heard you! Who the fuck is it?!' Punk demanded as his voice boomed. Punk then began shaking his head. 'Actually don't answer that. I'm not sure I want to know.'

Randy stepped into the centre of the room, closer to Punk. 'It's complicated. I don't know what to do for the best. I've fucked everything up and the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you!' Randy replied as he reached out for Punk.

Punk squirmed away from Orton's touch, the mere thought of those hands on his skin would bring up to many painful memories. He didn't need that right now. He was angry and that needed to be the dominant emotion at that moment in time. 'You don't want to hurt me?.' Punk questioned spitefully 'Well congratulations you've done a fucking great job over and over and over again this entire year!' Punk sarcastically bellowed.

He knew it was a low blow, but he couldn't help it as emotions and tensions were running high. Truth be told Randy had done the opposite in the year 2012. The good far outweighed the bad. Randy had made this year amazing and special for him and Punk couldn't deny that in the truest depths of his heart.

'I never meant too. What we have I don't want to lose.' Randy admitted as tears welled up in his eyes.

'Had.' Punk corrected him. 'We are already finished, Randal. We've already lost what we had when you screwed around with someone else behind my back!' Punk shouted as he tried to not lash out at Orton too badly. Under all that boiling hatred, apart of him still wanted to kiss the man with everything he had.

The yelling died down and both men paused. Randy took a deep breath, he had to tell the truth and be honest. He owed Punk that much.

'It was Sam. I was talking to Sam.'

Punk felt all of the air rush out of him and his knees buckle. He reached out to the table and managed to maintain his vertical base. If his heart was already broken it was now in smithereens.

Randy was talking to his ex-wife?!

'I'm so sorry, Punk.' Randy whispered as he saw the devastation written all over Punk's face. He felt devastated too. How had it got to this? Why did this have to happen?

He never imagined Samantha would come back into his life after the bitter end to their relationship last year. But when he received the first phone call from Sam, with her telling him she missed him and what they had, he couldn't deny that he missed it too in some ways.

He had felt so much anger toward her since they split, but as soon as he heard Sam's voice on the phone, old feelings rushed back into his consciousness. She was such a vital part of his life, she was apart of his life for so long, and it was as if his old life was luring him back and he now had no idea in which route to take with his life.

It's hard to say goodbye to your past. Especially when it's calling you back. It's ten times harder when what is calling you back was once upon a time a pivotal part of your life.

'Don't say you're sorry.' Punk spoke quietly almost robotically. 'I don't want to hear it. In fact I don't want to hear anything else from you at all. Just go.' Punk pleaded, unable to look up from the floor.

'Punk...' Randy whimpered, it felt wrong to let it end here. Their relationship shouldn't end like this. Not this way.

Punk felt sudden insurgence of anger as took in Randy's admission and he couldn't hold back the vicious poison. 'What was it huh, Randy? The novelty of sleeping with a man wear off?'

'A novelty? That's what you think I feel about us?' Randy yelled back.

'Felt. Past tense.' Punk spat out vindictively. He didn't mean to be so malicious, but when hurt and deep emotions are at play he had the compulsion to do so.

Almost for protection. Self preservation.

'Well I still feel a lot for you, so it's still very much in the present for me.' Randy snapped back with honesty. His feelings for Punk were still there. They still ran as deep as they had ever done.

Punk shook his head and sent a scathing glare at Orton. 'Just go back to your wife, Randal. I don't care anymore.' Punk lied. He cared. He cared so much this whole experience made it feel feel like his whole body was shutting down.

'I need you to know something first.' Randy took a deep breath trying to restrain tears that threatened to fall. 'I haven't cheated on you. I wouldn't do that to you. She just rung me up out of the blue and we've talked a few times, but that is all I swear.' Randy said, revealing the truth.

He needed Punk to understand that he wasn't unfaithful. That he hadn't betrayed him. And hadn't turned his back on him.

Punk laughed bitterly. 'Are you deaf? I said I don't care. So, shut the fuck up and get the fuck out!'

'Punk, we can't leave it like this.' Randy pleaded.

But it fell on deaf ears.

'Yes we can! I compromised my beliefs for you!' Punk shouted. 'What a dumb fucking mistake to make!' Deep down Punk didn't regret sleeping with Randy before they were an official item. He never could. He never would.

The vindictive words hurt Randy. 'It wasn't a mistake, what we have...'

'Had!' Punk corrected him angrily again through gritted teeth.

'It wasn't a mistake, Punk. I'll never see it as a mistake.' Randy replied sincerely.

'Please, just go.' Punk's voice softened. He was falling apart in a hurried fashion and he wanted to be alone before the self implosion commenced.

Randy felt a tear fall. He quickly wiped it away and headed for the door, acquiescing to Punk's wish. He felt he had done enough damage already. Randy hated himself. To see how badly he had hurt Punk was soul destroying.

Randy wasn't even sure what he wanted. Or who he wanted. He was so confused. His previous life was calling him back, and it was a life that he was happy in once before. But during the last seven months with Punk he had been happy too.

He was stuck in the middle and being pulled in two separate directions by two colossal forces and he didn't know which way to turn.

Once he saw Randy near the door Punk felt an urge. He knew he shouldn't ask, it would just hurt him even more and he wasn't even sure he could survive anymore heartache. But he couldn't help himself and he found himself asking anyway.

'Are you really still in love with her?'

Randy clenched the door handle tighter in his hand as he winced at Punk's question. Honesty wasn't always the best option, because it caused even more pain. But he owed it to Punk to be honest and he would be.

'Yeah, I do.' Randy answered in barely a whisper, before looking back to see Punk's sad eyes with tears pooling in them. He wanted to run over there so badly and hold the man in his arms, and wipe the tears away, but he held back.

'But, I also lo...'

'Shut up!' Punk snapped, cutting Randy off.

He knew what was coming. He knew what Randy was going to say. That was a bitter pill to swallow. He couldn't take hearing that. Not now. Not after how close he came to saying those words to Randy right before his whole world collapsed around him.

Punk was barely withholding his tears. The only thing holding them back was his stubbornness not to cry in front of Randy.

'Get out. And stay away from me from now on.' Punk said as he held the tears at bay.

Randy walked through the door way, but before he closed the door he looked back to Punk. 'I never meant to intentionally hurt you.'

It was over. It was really over.

Randy loved him with all his heart, he just loved his ex-wife as well. He was tearing himself up inside and he hated that Punk got caught up in the middle of this mess. He hated that above anything else.

'I am so sorry' Randy whispered before leaving the room.

As soon as the door closed Punk's tears fell freely, and he didn't even try to stop them this time. He had reached his limit. He couldn't remain strong anymore. The walls came tumbling down and the tears ran in streams. The man he loved was gone. And gone in one of the most brutally painful ways.

Punk curled up on the bed and sobbed into the pillow.

There was a chink in CM Punk's usual impenetrable armour, and that was Randy Orton. Punk had let him into his heart, and now he was regretting it. Punk often tried to refrain from forming deep attachments, it just wasn't him. But Randy Orton ended up being the exception to that unwritten rule.

Punk had been naive. Their relationship was always a ticking time bomb and finally it had counted down to the explosion. Now Punk was left in the darkness, surrounded by the ruins.

He was under no illusion, he knew that he was a broken hearted man.

Punk remembered the old cliche; Time heals all wounds.

He hoped that when the smoke cleared it would turn out to be true, because he had never been wounded so deeply before in his entire life.

He was bruised. He was broken. He was bleeding.

He was staring into an abyss. He had lost the one person that he had ever fallen in love with and he had no fight left in him anymore.

So, he surrendered to the darkness.

...

* * *

**This chapter was so hard to write. ****I felt I had to get so many thoughts and emotions across and I hope I managed it. I wanted everyone to feel bad for Punk, but for Randy too. He's so torn and he doesn't want to hurt Punk at all, gahhhh too much emotion...I feel drained.**

**Will it get worse from here though?!**

**Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, favouriting!**

**Till next time :)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hello, thank you all for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I'm sorry I made you all sad though, it couldn't be helped. :( **

**I'm hoping Punk will become WWE champ again at Elimination Chamber, but I don't think that will happen unfortunately. It certainly seems we're headed for The Rock vs Cena at Mania. Maybe Punk will be slotted into their match if Taker isn't healthy? Also hoping Randy or Kane win the chamber match. Although Y2J and Daniel Bryan Danielson is awesome too. Should be a good ppv!**

**Fingers crossed that ff is behaving now too, posting the last chapter really was a nightmare lol.**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

Randy Orton walked into his luxurious home in , Missouri with a heavy heart and a lot on his mind. He looked and felt miserable and he sighed with relief as he collapsed onto the couch. He was finally away from inquisitive minds and prying eyes.

For the entire week of being on the road there had been questions directed at him (and to Punk too Randy assumed) about their 'friendship' suddenly turning sour.

There had been a blatant change seeing as Punk kept his distance from him at the Smackdown taping and that the Straight Edge Superstar was now travelling with Kofi Kingston instead of him. There was bound to be raised eyebrows and queries from the fellow wrestlers in the company, but Randy didn't want to give them the answer.

Randy had tried his best to dodge and evade the questions being fired in his direction. But when he caved in and granted them information the answers had ranged from 'we just decided not to travel together anymore' to 'What the fuck has it got to do with you?'.

Despite his evasiveness it was crystal clear to everyone within the company that their friendship had taken a U-turn just as drastically as it had done seven months previously.

Randy slumped down, his legs resting on the small table situated in the middle of the living area. He was so tired. Sleep had been elusive to say the very least. His mind couldn't switch off, no matter how hard he tried to unplug it.

Punk and his ex-wife were at the forefront and it seemed they would not go away anytime in the near future.

Randy felt like a torn identity.

On one hand his old life with Samantha was calling him back. It was a life that he thought was perfect last year. They had made a home together and they had talked about starting a family together. His entire future was encapsulated within that woman.

Then Samantha dropped the bomb that she wanted a divorce. An unexpected turn of events. Randy had no impression that it was coming. It knocked Randy for six and had launched the Viper into a serious downward spiral. His descent often consisted of large quantities of alcohol being consumed in the early hours of the morning. More would be poured until he succumbed to passing out.

But then a beacon of light came forth. There was one man waiting for him at the end of that spiral who saved him. Punk had lifted him back from the depths of despair he was struggling in.

Punk had brought out a whole different dimension of life to Randy. One that he never thought he would want. Let alone crave. Let alone love. What he had found with Punk was exciting. It was amazing. It was shiny and new.

His marriage had been amazing too, though. Or at least for the most part it had been. Sam and he had their ups and downs over their years together like most couples do. But shockingly Samantha had filed for divorce when Randy believed their marriage was sailing smoothly.

It had come out of left field for him and it was a powerful kick in the gut. He had reeled from that announcement for months. It was hard to digest just how quickly his life had fallen apart and changed before his very eyes. Everything in his life seemed to fade to black.

Then Punk had been the one to lead him out of darkness and bring joy and happiness back into his life.

And how did Randy repay the favour?

By breaking the mans heart.

Randy held his head in his hands. He knew that he had hurt Punk, and that was the very last thing he wanted to do. But after getting that first phone call from Samantha Randy knew that there were still residual feelings lingering for his ex-wife.

Randy had to find out if his marriage could be repaired and function again, didn't he?

It was a life that he never wanted to walk away from. One he never wanted to lose. But that was out of his control once Samantha filed for divorce. Now though Randy had exclusive control, the power rested in his hands.

Ironically the one time he had it, he didn't want it. He didn't want such a massive life changing decision to be solely down to his choice.

He loved both of them. He just couldn't tell if the love he felt for them differed in some way? Or if the love he felt for one paled in comparison to the other. He couldn't find the key to unlock the answer.

He was so divided. There was chaos inside his cranium.

Whichever person he chose he knew he would be breaking someone's heart.

...

Monday had arrived and begrudgingly Randy had boarded the plane and arrived in Colorado for Monday Night Raw despite it being the last place he wanted to be.

The Apex Predator had stewed and stewed over the last few days whilst at home over what to do, and yet no answer had made itself visible from the mist of his confusion.

It was like an abstract painting in his mind that just wouldn't pull into focus and give him the definitive answer he desperately sought after. There was no clear cut sign to lead him in the correct direction. There was no distinguishing thought in the myriad of voices he heard in his fragile head.

Lately, Randy Orton wished he could just crawl into a hole and magically disappear to free himself of the decision he needed to make.

Randy had kept his head down since arriving at the arena, making it clear to all he was in no mood to converse. There was only one person in that arena he wished to lay eyes on and talk to and that was CM Punk.

Whether the WWE champion would afford him the opportunity was another story entirely. Punk had been abundantly clear last week that he didn't want to be anywhere near him and that they were over. Apart of Orton wanted to adhere to Punk's wish, it was maybe a good idea to let the dust settle, but there was a feeling in his gut urging him on to talk to the man that he loved.

No decision seemed simple anymore. The frustration balled up inside Randy ballooned.

A thought then occurred to the Apex Predator, the pain he had caused Punk could make the Voice of the Voiceless reject him even if he chose to be with him. Randy brushed the thought away and steeled himself that he needed to make things right with Punk irrelevant of who he ultimately chose.

And tonight that was what he would do. No more. No less.

He just needed Punk to know the truth.

Out of the corner of his eye Orton caught a glimpse of CM Punk enter the locker room and Randy's face fell and heart sank at the sight. Punk was visibly upset as he sat his belongings down. He looked almost lifeless. His shoulders were hunched, his eyes full of sorrow and he looked haggard and so very tired.

Randy had a feeling Punk's insomnia would flare up due to the mess that he had created and Punk had lamentably got caught up in the middle of. Now that Orton's fear was confirmed it made the guilt resting on his shoulders double in weight. It was almost too much to bare.

How could he do that to the man he loved?

Randy hated himself. He had no intention to ever hurt Punk, but it was irrefutable that he had.

Randy had hated himself before for stupid mistakes he had made in his life, but he had never hated himself down to the very core. But that was what he felt now.

He had destroyed the only man he had ever loved.

...

Raw had ended and the Superstars and Divas were leaving the arena in droves and Randy watched from a distance in the parking lot as Punk boarded a tour bus. Randy's stomach dropped at discovering the Voice of the Voiceless now had his own.

Only a week had passed and Punk had already distanced himself further by acquiring his own bus. Randy wished with all his heart that Punk was still with him on their bus.

But he knew he couldn't have the best of both worlds. He couldn't have Punk and his marriage at the same time it wasn't fair on any of them.

Randy felt the overwhelming need to see Punk. To explain. To reveal his inner turmoil. And most importantly tell the man how sorry he was. He was hesitant, Punk's plea last week to be left alone still lingered in the back of the Vipers mind.

Randy reasoned that they needed to talk this out, so he bit the bullet and rushed over to Punk's tour bus to accomplish what he had set out to do all night.

As he got on he saw Punk's eyes staring at him instantly from the other end. He was stoic. Hard to read. He made no sound or sign that he wanted Orton to leave.

Randy felt his legs tremble. He was nervous. He was anxious. He realised that he may not make this situation any better. He may just pour more gasoline on the fire and Punk would hate him even more.

'Hi.' Randy said cautiously.

'Hey.' Punk replied.

Randy couldn't really gauge Punk's reaction to him being on Punk's bus, but he concluded the fact that Punk hadn't shoved him off it, nor told him to beat it was a positive sign.

'Can we talk, please?' Randy asked, feeling like he was a bastard for even asking the question. He was the one that had caused all this heartache, he wouldn't blame Punk for telling him to leave.

'I don't think there's much to say. You're back with your wife. We're over. End of story.' Punk shrugged trying to hide his hurt and anguish behind a thinly veiled disguise that didn't fool Randy for a single second.

'I'm not back with her officially.' Randy informed him.

Punk shrugged once again. 'Well you want to be. So, it still means that we're over.'

'Do you want us to be over?' Randy asked knowing he really had no right to ask that question, but he couldn't help but voice it. The anticipation he felt whilst waiting for the answer was unbearable.

'It doesn't matter what I want. This isn't in my control.' Punk deflected, not wanting to lay his heart on the line anymore than what he already had. Punk hated not having any control of situations. He felt powerless. Vulnerable.

'Of course it matters what you want, Punk.' Randy said, but Punk just looked away from him and sighed heavily.

This was even more difficult than Randy had imagined. Talking to Punk shouldn't be filled with tension and unease. But now it was and he knew it was all his fault.

Punk remained silent. Randy waited and waited for an answer, but when he realised Punk wasn't going to give one he decided now was the time that he needed to be unequivocally honest.

'Punk, I just need you to know that everything I have said to you about the way I feel and everything we did together I don't a regret a single second of it.'

Punk closed his eyes Randy's words hitting him square in the heart. For the past week he wasn't even sure it was beating, it was lifeless as it lay shattered in pieces, but as Randy talked about their relationship and how he felt Punk could now feel his heart thudding back to life and it reverberated throughout his entire body.

'I don't want to lose you. I just don't have a clue as to which way to turn.' Randy voice wavered, all the bottled up emotion over the course of the last week now rising to the surface.

Punk opened his eyes and could see Randy welling up and his first instinct was to rush over to him, but he remained still.

'Right now, I can't say the same.' Punk admitted.

Randy's words meant the world to him, but reality hit harder. Their relationship had ran into one barrier after the other. Maybe that was fate's way of saying it just wasn't meant to be. He honestly wondered if all the months of being with Randy was one huge fatal mistake. He wondered if he was really in possession of his mental faculties for the last few months. Hell the entire year.

'And the bottom line is you want to be with your wife. You want your old life back.' Punk hated those words. He hated hearing them.

'I don't know if I do...' Randy said.

'Yes you do.' Punk cut in. 'We wouldn't be here in this situation if you didn't want that.'

Actually voicing and hearing those words from his own mouth killed Punk inside. He was already fatally wounded, and now conversing with Randy was dragging him closer to being a lifeless carcass.

Randy took a deep breath, fighting desperately to keep his emotions at bay. 'But I want you too.'

Punk loved and hated hearing that in equal proportions. His heart clenched inside his chest. He couldn't help but shake his head and whimper at the words. It may be something he wanted to hear, but not what he needed. It was making his strength deteriorate. 'You can't have the both of us, Randy. You need to make a choice.'

'I know.' Randy whispered. 'I'm just not sure what to do.'

'Then I'll make it simple for you.' Punk inhaled deeply, composing himself. 'I saw how cut up you were when you and your wife split. You told me how bad you felt at seeing your marriage breakdown.'

Another deep breath. Another attempt at fighting back the tears.

'So, now that you've got a second chance to make it work, you should grab it with both hands and never let it go. You don't want to look back in five years and think what if.'

Punk felt the tears slip from his eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to look up at Randy's face. If he did he knew his bravery and selflessness would disintegrate and he would take back all those words and plead for Randy to be with him instead.

Randy initiated his heartbreak, now Punk had finished the job. And he did it all in the name of love. He knew at the bottom of his shattered heart that Randy needed to learn if his marriage could survive. If he didn't take the chance, he knew Randy would always think of what could've been.

Punk knew it was over between them. They had reached the end of the line. It was time to say hello to the goodbye.

Punk loved Randy enough to let him go.

Randy felt the bitter taste of his own tears as the sheer enormity of Punk's speech hit him. He looked over to the Second City Saint, and his whole body ached with the need to wipe away Punk's tears and to hold him in his arms and kiss him until all the pain vanished and melted away.

'I'll never ever forget what we had.' Randy choked, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

Punk shook his head as he sniffled. 'Me neither.'

Punk finally managed to look up. One last lingering look at the man he loved. As of tomorrow their relationship will be buried in the past and Punk would force himself to forget all the memories they had made together that year.

Then operation recovery would commence. He knew he would rebuild the walls around his heart that Randy had valiantly torn down so his shattered heart could mend and heal. But now more than ever Punk was adamant those walls would never ever be breached again.

Punk wiped away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks and took a deep breath. 'I hope you find happiness.' Punk managed to stutter, wishing Randy truly did find it.

'You too.' Randy wept, as he still fought against the strong urge to back peddle and declare his love and his future was with Punk. He loved him so much. Could he let him go?

He remained silent and rooted to the spot.

As their eyes remained locked in a silent goodbye, memories flooded their consciousness. All the laughs, the cries, the touches, the tastes, the good times and bad, it made goose bumps rise on both mans skin as they chased the shivers that ran down their spines.

Punk broke the eye contact first, he couldn't take it any more. He needed to end this now before he lost his bottle and pleaded with Randy to stay with him. To chose him.

'You...should go.' Punk sobbed.

Randy nodded and he took a step back to leave. But he paused as he saw more tears flow free from those gorgeous green eyes that he had become accustomed to looking into. That he loved looking into.

He would miss them. He would miss so much. He would miss Punk's soft skin. His skillful touch. His mind numbing kisses. He would miss everything.

Randy shook his head as his own tears ran even faster and he couldn't control himself as he rushed up to Punk and kissed him on the lips. Punk sobbed against his lips, but returned the kiss with all the love and passion he had caged up inside.

But he knew what this was. He knew what it meant. This wasn't Randy choosing him. No matter how much he wished it was.

This was the final kiss.

And if this was the last time then it had to be special.

The kiss of a lifetime.

Punk's hands ran up Randy's chest and with his fingers he clung to Randy's shirt, bunching it up in his fists. He never wanted to let go. Randy's strong arms enveloped him and wrapped around him tightly. Trembling lips parted and a whimper escaped Punk as Randy's soft lips left his.

It was over in an instant. But Punk never wanted it to end.

Randy pulled away, and Punk's hands slowly unclenched releasing Randy's shirt reluctantly from his grip. Randy's hands slid up Punk's body to cradle his head. He placed a delicate kiss on Punk's forehead as Punk screwed his eyes shut tight fighting to remain strong and not hold onto Randy and never let go.

'Bye.' An almost silent whisper came from Randy as he spun around and rushed off the bus. If he didn't leave now, he never would.

Punk watched Randy walk away from him for the final time through tear drops and once Orton left the bus his strength dissolved, his legs gave out and he crumpled into a heap on the floor. He could no longer fight back his emotions as the tears rushed like a river.

Throughout their tumultuous relationship Punk had experienced the whole gamut of emotions, but now the most dominating and intimidating one was the sheer sadness that captured his heart and soul.

There was no conceivable way for him to bottle up his pain this time. The tears poured down faster than the rain in a storm and as he wept alone he uttered three little words.

'I love you.'

...

* * *

**:( That last part was so hard to write as from the moment I planned out the story all those months ago I knew it was going to be one of the most important and heart wrenching scenes. I tried to throw so much emotion from the both of them in there. Apart of me finds it hard to write these two being emotional, it's much easier to write them being angry and sarcastic lol. But the scene just had to be a tear jerker. I'm not going to lie, I actually had a little bit of a tear in my eye whilst writing it. It's probably one of the parts of the whole story that I'm most proud of...I think. Lol.**

**Anyway, enough babbling from me. I hope you liked it and aren't crying too badly...need a tissue?**


	27. Chapter 27

**_Thank you so much for all the reviews on the last chapter. There were so many lovely compliments that put a big smile on my face. You're too nice. I am sorry for making some of you cry. My bad!_**

**_Here is the next chapter..._**

* * *

_Chicago, Illinois._

_August 22nd 2012_

CM Punk was drowning his sorrows. Although admittedly it wasn't in the traditional sense seeing as he was straight edge. So, the substitution for alcohol was a glass of Diet Pepsi held in his right hand that he had been slowly nursing for almost an hour.

A month had elapsed since he had let Randy go without a fight, and the downward spiral he was on just kept on plunging him down to new depths. Summerslam had just passed and during the past month Punk had thrown himself into work with reckless abandon. He had barely had a day off in a month; volunteering for more signings, more radio interviews and more television spots. He was paying the price now feeling utterly exhausted, but he welcomed it. It was the only way to numb the pain of not having Randy Orton in his life the way he wanted him to be.

He had raised worries in Kofi Kingston. His good friend often checked up on him telling him to take it easy, but it fell on deaf ears. Punk was thankful for the mans friendship and support, and the continued offers to talk, but Punk felt he needed to deal with it in his own way and in his own time. And that included working his ass off to the point of exhaustion and pushing everyone away.

A bar wasn't exactly a usual CM Punk haunt for obvious reasons, but as he finished his run around the city he loves he decided to avoid going home and have a refreshing beverage.

His home wasn't somewhere where he wanted to be right now. Like most places he found himself in it harboured too many memories. Memories of Randy Orton. Memories that he once held sacred. Now they just burnt a hole through his heart and soul.

So, he prolonged his time away from his apartment, but it provided no escape from the pain. No reprieve. All that was on his mind was Randy. All he could think about was how much he missed him. If he should've fought for Randy instead of letting him go to reunite with his wife. He wondered if Randy was happy. He wondered whether Randy missed him too. Or if Randy had already forgotten about him and their relationship.

He felt the tears prickling, ready to fall and the last thing he wanted to do was to cry in a bar where people will recognise him and tell the world CM Punk was crying alone in a bar. He fought back the tears and just as he was about to make a hasty exit and reluctantly return home to one of the most painful memories that Randy and he had made a voice punctured his thoughts.

'Hi.'

Punk turned to the right to see a woman stood there smiling. She was attractive. Brown hair that flowed past her shoulders, with chocolate brown eyes that sparkled brightly.

'Hi.' Punk replied.

The lady's smile grew as she sat in the stool next to Punk's at the bar. 'My name is Vanessa.'

'Hello, Vanessa. I'm Pun...Phil.' Punk said, as he wondered if the woman knew who he was.

It seemed most in Chicago did. He was often yelled at from across the street by fans and stopped for pictures and autographs. But so far she seemed to think he was just a normal civilian in a bar. Usually Punk could tell when people were aware of who he was, it was like some form of radar he had perfected over the years.

'Nice to meet you, Phil. So, why are you drinking alone?' Vanessa asked.

'It was only a quick pit stop before heading home actually.' Punk answered. 'What is a gorgeous woman like yourself drinking alone for?' Punk wondered why he even asked that. Not to mention calling her gorgeous.

Vanessa giggled at his compliment, and Punk had a small fleeting smile grace his features thinking at least he could still charm the ladies. After the events of 2012 he wondered if he would've lost his touch. He was out of practice having been with Randy all year. Plus being charming wasn't exactly Punk's or Randy's forte. It was notably absent from their relationship anyway. Teasing and light hearted mockery was the norm.

'I'm drinking alone because I haven't met the right man yet. But you never know when you'll meet , you know?' Vanessa smiled as she shameless flirted with Punk. 'So, you're single?' She inquired.

Punk suddenly halted and tensed up. Single? Not through choice. A fleeting thought that he had found his flashed across his mind. He didn't want those damn thoughts!

He realised what situation he was getting himself into, and alarmingly he knew that he wasn't ready to even entertain the notion of moving on. As sweet and pretty as Vanessa seemed she wasn't what Punk wanted.

Randy Orton was.

Punk maybe technically single, but in his heart he was still very much attached.

'Actually, it's kind of complicated.' Punk partially admitted to his admirer, not wanting to reveal his personal life to a stranger.

'Oh. Well that's disappointing.' Vanessa sighed as she leant in close to Punk. 'Because I think you're so hot.'

Vanessa certainly wasn't backwards about coming forwards.

Punk thought Vanessa was a nice girl, but he wasn't in any state of mind to cope with this. The mere thought of flirting with someone, let alone anything else just felt so deeply wrong to Punk. His heart belonged to another, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

Punk knew it was best to cut this off at the pass. And he wanted in no uncertain terms for Vanessa to get the message loud and clear. 'I'm sorry, but I'm not interested.'

'I'm sure I could get you interested.' Vanessa unashamedly flirted as she ran her hand over Punk's bicep.

Punk snatched his arm away like her hand was made of acid. He didn't want anyone touching him like that. At least not her. He just wanted one person to touch him like he was desirable and wanted.

'Get the hint, I'm not interested. At all.' Punk snapped harshly.

Punk saw Vanessa's smile disappear and evolve into a scowl. 'You really don't know what you're missing.' Vanessa hopped off the stool and gave Punk another evil. 'Motherfucker!'

She proceeded to saunter off toward the opposite end of the bar already looking around for her next target it seemed. Maybe she wasn't so nice after all Punk thought. Although he conceded that he didn't handle the situation in the best possible manner.

Punk sighed. He wanted to get out of there. He shook his head feeling at a complete loss at how to mend his broken heart. He emptied his glass of Pepsi and made for the exit.

For the first time since the break up with the Viper he had been approached by someone interested in him. Punk felt it was almost like a test. Punk thought the result was pretty comprehensive to.

He just wasn't ready to move on from Randy Orton.

Deep down he already knew that. The pain in his chest over the last month hadn't abated for even a fraction of a second. The hurt, sorrow, pain and anguish that hung over him and followed him wherever he went was a big indicator of that.

He was still very much in love with Randy Orton.

Before his relationship with Randy Punk had always been very cynical when it came to love and matters of the heart. His stance that he would never fall for someone that deeply was one he truly believed in. He believed that love makes you weak. Love makes a fool out of you. And that love was basically a bitch!

For over 33 years of life he vehemently attested that was indeed the case.

He had never in his life met someone he felt he couldn't be without. He had never found someone he could trust with his deepest and darkest secrets. He had never found someone that he felt so comfortable around that he could let them see his vulnerable side. He had never met someone that took his breath away from just one glance in his direction.

But then out of nowhere he had found that somebody. Someone that brought all that out in him and more. He had fallen madly in love with that somebody.

That somebody being Randy Orton.

He fell head over heels in love with Randy Orton.

And with love came the heartbreak. The heartbreak he always cynically said was inevitable when it came to love.

His love for Randy Orton had made him weak.

His love for Randy Orton had made him look like a fool.

Now more than ever he thought this; Love was, is, and always will be a bitch!

...

_Saint Charles, Missouri._

_September 20th 2012_

Randy Orton had returned home after the Night Of Champions pay per view and the subsequent Raw and Smackdown shows that week for a three day break from the road. He returned to the marital home that meant everything to him. Or at least it did in years gone by. There was a different feel to the house now, one that left Randy with an eerily cold and empty feeling inside.

He was sat on the double bed that reached out from the feature wall into the open space of the bedroom he shared with his wife. His mind raced with the developments that had occurred in his life in the last couple of months.

It hadn't been long, a mere two weeks after splitting up with Punk that Samantha had moved back into the house after they agreed to give their marriage another shot and it was if the past had caught up with the present as Randy's house was now chock full with Samantha's belongings once again. Her clothes. Her CD's. Her photo's of her family. Their wedding photo. It was all back.

Just like that.

A lot may have felt familiar, but there was one stark contrast, the feelings in Randy's heart just wasn't the same as they were before the divorce.

_An inaudible whisper had whistled through his head that day._

After their reunion and Samantha moving back in, it had only taken days before Samantha had questioned Randy about the mystery person that he admitted he was seeing during one of the multiple times that she had called him to say she missed him. Randy however, had been quick to cut that conversation off, not wanting to converse about such a raw and fresh subject.

His wife on the other hand had a frustratingly curious mind and brought the topic up again and again, until Randy snapped at her to shut up. He didn't mean to be rude and so aggressive, but it was hard enough saying goodbye to Punk the first time around. To have to think about their relationship and say goodbye to Punk in his heart all over again was just to painful.

_The whisper got louder._

Not only did Randy not want to relive his relationship with Punk after trying and failing to block it all from his memory and bury it under six feet of dirt because it was just too painful, he didn't want to reveal to Samantha that the mystery person he was dating was in fact not only a colleague, but actually another man.

As far as Randy Orton was concerned the only people that would ever know of that secret would be Punk and himself. He wasn't ashamed of it. He was just concerned about how she and others would react to the information.

He almost felt protective of it. He didn't want anyone to tarnish it. It was Punk's and his. No one else's.

So, now that they were back under the same roof and giving their marriage another shot Randy knew that he had to give it his all into making their marriage work this time. He couldn't be half hearted. A hundred percent effort was needed from both sides.

Over the course of the last two months he had been trying with all his heart to revert back to how they were before the divorce, but something deep down inside of him just felt there was something wrong. Something that just wouldn't click into place.

_The whisper got so loud, it was a whisper no longer._

There was no intensity between them. Randy felt no burning need or desire to be with Samantha. They weren't on the same wave length. There was uncomfortable silence when conversation lulled. Their kisses lacked passion.

Being in that house, being in that bed, with her it just didn't feel...right.

Samantha had numerous times over the course of the last two months tried to initiate physical intimacy whenever Randy returned home from the hectic travelling schedule of the WWE world. However, a halt was always brought forth by Randy. The disappointed and questioning glares from his wife where responded with weak excuses such as being tired or having a headache.

But in actuality he just wasn't interested. He hoped for a reignition of arousal when he thought of being intimate with Samantha, but it was just gone. There was no spark that set the fireworks off in his belly anymore.

_The voice was still getting louder and more persistent._

Whenever his libido did make its presence felt and he found himself aroused in the middle of the night it wasn't Samantha on his mind when he wrapped a tight fist around his cock. It wasn't a moan of Samantha's name coming from his lips as he reached his climax. It wasn't Samantha's body flashing across his minds eye.

It was CM Punk.

It was all CM Punk.

It would always be CM Punk.

_The voice was now screaming at him._

After two months it was crystal clear that he had chosen the wrong path. The inaudible whisper of doubt had been there the moment he had chosen Samantha over Punk, and it just increased in volume as he moved further and further away from the Straight Edge Superstar and closer to his wife.

The whisper of doubts he felt he needed to ignore. After having to make such a momentous decision he knew that doubts would be common. But the minute Samantha moved back into the home they previously shared they had doubled in volume and frequency.

Randy had remained resolved for weeks, knowing he couldn't just give up. He had come to far, he had given up too much to let this fall apart at the seams.

But now it had been months. All that time had ticked by and the voice in his head that had been there from the very resumption of his marriage had morphed from that meek whisper into an intimidating and mocking shout. It was harder to ignore.

Randy felt tears well up in his eyes as he sat on the bed with his head in his hands. He knew what he had done. The voice made it clear to him.

_You have made a big mistake._

He felt his stomach drop, and the nausea arrive. His head was spinning. There was no denial any longer. He knew he had made a terrible mistake. He knew it.

He remembered what he had lost. He broke the heart of the man that he loved. The man that he belonged with. The man that was his one and only soulmate.

He had lost CM Punk.

The bitter taste of irony was an additional slap in the face. The only way that he came to learn that Punk was who he belonged with was to lose him in the first place.

He had given up on a new and exciting future with CM Punk and instead opted to revert back to his old life, with his wife. His old life was alluring. It was one he had unfinished business with. It had called him back. Now he would have to pay the price. And the price was a steep one, he had lost _his_ Punk.

But Randy somehow managed to calmly reason that if he had chosen Punk in the first place, and not at least tried to make his marriage with Samantha work then he would always have that nagging feeling of 'what if' in the back of his mind.

Just like Punk had told him he would on the bus during their emotional goodbye. Punk was always a know it all Randy thought with a fond smile.

Randy was startled out of his thoughts as he saw Samantha pass by the open door. He heard her footsteps heading down the stairs.

He had to correct his stupid mistake. He had to put an end to this sham now. Stage one of rectifying this mess was ending his marriage. He steadied himself and for the first time he said it to himself out loud.

'It's over.'

His marriage wasn't what he wanted. Samantha wasn't what he wanted. His marriage was absolutely finished. For good.

He knew that now.

Randy knew he had made a major mistake. He had to make it right. His marriage wasn't salvageable because his heart wasn't with Samantha anymore. His heart wasn't in this house. His heart wasn't in Saint Charles. It wasn't even with him.

His heart belonged to one individual.

His heart was in Chicago.

...

* * *

**What will happen next?! **

**I was thinking of splitting this part into two separate chapters initially, one with Punk and one with Randy due to the month gap between them. But I liked the mirror image of them both struggling and missing each other all in the same chapter.**

**I hope you enjoyed it :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. Here's another! And it's A BEAST! I thought about splitting it into two parts, but there was no place that I felt was right to split it. I hope you don't get bored or that you think it's too much. I'm seriously worried...**

**Amazing match on Raw between Punk and Cena(minus the hurricanrana). I knew Punk wasn't going to win, so I'm cool with it and am eagerly anticipating Punk vs. Taker at Mania. Also, did anyone else see the picture from the tour in Turkey(I think it was there) where Punk was minus his trunks? One word: WOW! I need that in my life. And my bed.**

**TMI? I'll shut up now.**

* * *

CM Punk was back home in his apartment in Chicago. After a hectic few days which consisted of the Night of Champions pay per view, the following nights Raw and a media appearance his flight landed back in his hometown late Tuesday night.

Once he got through his front door the Chicago native hoped to rest. The aches and pains that racked his body were screaming at him that he had been working too hard. And that was Punk's intention. If he was working flat out without any rest his mind wouldn't wander into territory he didn't want to explore.

That territory being Randy Orton.

The man that he loved. Two months separation hadn't made his feelings for the Apex Predator diminish by even a fraction. It had just made him miss and long for the man. And as much as CM Punk loathed to admit it, he felt lonely.

Sure he had his friends; Kofi Kingston was still checking up on him all the time despite his protestations that he was fine, but over the last couple of months he had pushed everyone away. He wanted to be alone. He had tried to be sociable, but every time he was around a group he ended up wishing they would disappear. He needed to come to terms with the loss, and dwell in solitude.

Truthfully the only person he wished to be sharing his time with was Randy. And that wasn't possible.

Despite the weariness and his aching muscles whenever Punk led his head down to sleep slumber alluded him. Punk was used to arduous sleepless nights where he would toss and turn as the night hours ticked on by. His insomnia made sure of that.

But sleepless nights had now turned into sleepless months.

He had barely mustered thirty hours rest over the last two months. Getting an hour here and there was sufficient for the first couple of weeks, but now his body felt like it was shutting down. During those long irritating nights where he led wide awake he would find himself looking up at the ceiling, staring into the pitch black darkness. A solemn thought would always arrive.

_'I never had this much trouble sleeping when Randy was here with me.'_

Punk could barely function at times. Numerous instances of tuning out during interviews and meetings had occurred. As well as missing spots that had been meticulously choreographed in his matches. Punk's mind wasn't operating for the simple reason that his heart was broken.

It killed Punk seeing Randy every week at Raw from across the crowded locker room. The extra sting in the tail was that the feelings that used to consume him were excitement whenever he saw Randy looking over at him. Now their shared glances were full of sorrow and heartache.

Punk longed for Randy's arms to curl around him and his lips to kiss him during those long lonely nights. He wished that Randy was there so he could rest his head on the Apex Predators chest so he could listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as it lulled him into slumber.

But Randy was gone. All of it was gone. Lost in history. And just Punk remained. All alone.

Time and time again he had tried to pick himself up and dust himself off and return to a state of mind he had before his relationship with Randy.

Punk always tried to have a positive mental attitude. To see the best in every bad situation. But this time he couldn't find it. It was absent and futile. His jaded heart would constantly tell his mind, _'Love is a bitch.'_

Punk knew from the start that the relationship he embarked upon with Randy Orton was one of risk. Before the year started they were barely acquaintances. In fact for a long period of time they despised one another. They could barely tolerate breathing the same air as one another.

The small pessimist side of his personality had tried to tell him that the book of their relationship would always come to an end like this. Yet all the time they were together he had hoped he could somehow or someway rewrite the story and create an alternate ending.

His hope had been vanquished now. Their relationship reached the edge of the cliff and they had crashed and burned. And whilst Randy had moved on in his life, Punk still led mangled in the wreckage as the flames crackled in his ears.

After throwing himself into work with reckless abandon and not garnering the rewards he sought; that being elusive sleep, he had gotten up at the first crack of sunlight on his first day back in Chicago and commenced with the task of cleaning his apartment.

It rarely needed a clean seeing as he lived on the road more than he did in the apartment, but it had been a while and a thick layer of dust had started to form. A vacuum around the house wouldn't be a waste of time either Punk had thought.

Hours had passed since he had begun. Just like he did while he was at work he hoped by keeping busy it would keep his unwanted thoughts at bay. So far his plan had reaped success. He was instead focusing on the task at hand whilst Rancid played in his ears as he walked around with his iPod.

Then it all came crashing to a halt.

In his bedroom under a pile of comic books he found a tee-shirt. Punk recognised it immediately. Randy's Strike First official WWE merchandise shirt.

A flash across his mind took him back in time to the last time Randy and he were in the apartment together.

The shirt had been removed from Randy in the throes of passion. A desperate need to touch and feel the hidden soft and tanned skin underneath had overwhelmed Punk. Punk's heart weighed heavily in his chest as he recalled the passionate night with Randy. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the soft caress of Randy's fingers on his skin as he pushed inside his former lover. Randy's deep moans echoed around him. Punk felt the rush of tears well up in his eyes.

Once the time had come for them to leave and return to the hectic schedule that a WWE Superstar lived neither Randy or Punk could locate the shirt. Randy told Punk to keep it, after all he could always get more of his official WWE merchandise.

Punk picked up the article from the floor and he brought the shirt up to his face and Randy's distinct scent filled his nostrils. Punk loved that smell. The intoxicating mix of fabric softener, deodorant and pure Randy Orton was heaven to him.

Or at least it used to be. Now it sentenced him to the flames of hell as memories flooded his consciousness.

He gripped the fabric tighter in his hand as the tears that threatened to fall slipped free and slid down his cheek. He quickly wiped them away, he had shed enough tears to last a lifetime. He composed himself and willed himself to remain strong. He returned downstairs and made his way to the kitchen with every intention of throwing the shirt in the trash. He hovered over the garbage, but he found himself unable to dispose of the item.

'Fuck!' Punk spat out with annoyance. His head may tell him to be strong, but his heart and soul reminded him that he was still weak when it came to Randy Orton.

The book that chronicled their relationship may have reached its finale, but Punk wasn't ready to close it and return it to the book shelf. He couldn't say goodbye to Randy. Not yet.

Randy Orton was still apart of him. Perhaps the biggest part. Punk knew he needed more time. He needed to heal. He just hated feeling so weak in the meantime.

A knock on his apartment door came out of the blue and startled him. He wasn't expecting a visitor. However, he suspected it maybe Colt so he rushed over to the door and swung it open without looking through the peephole.

His jaw immediately hit the floor.

It wasn't Colt Cabana.

It was him. It was Randy.

'Hi.' Randy stood on the doorstep. A look of trepidation written all over his face.

Punk stared at Randy. A million and one thoughts racing through his head. He felt his mouth run dry. The world stopped spinning. Time stood frozen.

'What are you doing here?' Punk finally asked.

Instantly Punk regretted his reply. It sounded blunt, like he didn't want Randy to be there. Although in truth he wasn't sure whether he actually did want Randy there. Apart of him thought it was the worse place for the Apex Predator to be. Not just for him, but for Randy too.

A clean break was needed. As little contact between them as possible was ideal.

Punk shook his head and uttered an apology despite his misgivings. 'Sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude.'

Randy visibly relaxed at Punk's addendum. Punk's first response was not what he was hoping for when he turned up unexpectedly on his door step.

'It's okay.' Randy understood. 'You weren't expecting me.'

'No, I wasn't. I don't want to sound rude all over again, but why are you here?'

Punk couldn't fathom why Randy was there. Unless he had somehow really been damned to hell and Randy had been sent to inflict mental torture on him for the rest of eternity.

'I needed to see you.' Randy explained as he looked straight at Punk to gauge his reaction. He swore to himself that he could see a sparkle of hope momentarily flash in those green orbs.

Or was it wishful thinking?

Punk was frozen to the spot. He didn't know how to react. Or what to say. His mind had been engrossed with Randy Orton for two months. Hell, mere seconds before his mind was swamped with Randy Orton. Now he was there. Less than three feet away.

Randy felt Punk's silence was an ominous sign. His heart started to sink. Randy believed he had made another error. He shouldn't of travelled to Chicago. 'Maybe I should go.'

Punk didn't look at him. His eyes were fixed on the floor. His body still. It was like someone had pressed the pause button on him. Or a spell had rendered him catatonic.

Randy sighed in defeat. It seemed that the damage he had caused to Punk just wasn't repairable. The man didn't want to see him, and he couldn't blame him. He took a step back out of the door way and turned to leave.

'But you've only just got here.' Punk whispered to Randy's retreating back.

CM Punk wasn't usually one to build bridges. Instead he would burn them. In some cases he would go as far as to throw dynamite on them so there was no chance of repair.

But not this time.

His heart was calling out for Randy Orton. And now here he actually was. He wasn't sure what result he wanted to come from his extended olive branch, but he couldn't allow Randy to leave.

He briefly pondered if he had a perverse kick in torturing himself?

Randy felt a wave of relief wash over him as Punk finally spoke. He turned back to see Punk stood to the side by the door, a silent invitation to come inside. He took it without hesitation.

Randy walked into the centre of the living room a rush of memories came from all sides. Good memories. Happy memories. Memories he wanted to restore to their former glory. He turned to see Punk waiting anxiously. The Second City Saint was confused, and Randy was hoping that the answers he gave would be the answers Punk would want to hear.

Unfortunately he believed pessimistically that would be a long shot.

Randy smiled faintly over at Punk and studied the familiar features. For two long months he had missed the man. He missed the green eyes that he always got lost in. The thin lips that he longed to kiss. The beard that scratched and tickled his face when they made out. He had missed every part of the man that stood before him. He knew he had been a total fool to walk away.

Randy then smiled affectionately and he saw Punk immediately look to him questioningly. 'I like your new haircut. You look good.'

In the time since their break up Punk had shaved his head. The hair now minimal, and to Randy he looked as gorgeous as ever.

'Yeah, I felt like I needed a change.' Punk explained as he ran his hand over his shorn hair.

'Your match Sunday against Cena was pretty damn great.' Randy complimented. Awkward tension had consumed him and he had no clue on how to broach the subject. It wasn't something that he could just throw out there carelessly.

'Thanks.' Punk replied as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

The tension now filled the room and was becoming stifling. If Randy didn't explain his journey to Chicago soon Punk felt like he was going to suffocate. Or explode. Or possibly both.

Randy ran a hand against the grain of his hair. He had no idea where to start. He had racked his brain on the plane to try and come up with this perfect speech, but nothing was forthcoming.

Randy decided in that moment that thinking about what to say was the last thing he needed to do. It would come out wrong. He would stumble over his words. What he needed to do was speak from the heart. The heart was the truest source.

Randy braced himself with a deep breath. 'I miss you.'

Punk's breath lodged in his throat at Randy's announcement. His heart stuttered within his chest. For two gruelling months he longed to hear that.

'I made the biggest mistake of my life when I let you go.' Randy could feel his heart thumping, his limbs trembling. 'I know that I fucked up badly. But I'm here now to say I'm sorry and that I want you back.'

Punk could feel his whole body shaking. Every instinct was telling him to run into Randy's arms, but he remained rooted to the spot. He had been burnt before. Randy had been the one to set him on fire. He had promised himself that from now on he would protect his heart.

The walls around his heart were back up and they were built on strong foundations. Stronger than when Randy first annihilated them and captured his heart. They had been reinforced, determined to never let a single person breach them again. He couldn't sacrifice his heart all over again. It was already destroyed, his chest now hollow.

Punk looked to Randy and he saw how nervous the man was. Could this really be what Randy truly wanted? What about the marriage that he rekindled at the expense of their relationship. 'What about your wife?'

'My marriage is over.' Randy informed him in a flash. 'I ended it. She's not who I want. You are. You're all I want, Punk.'

His marriage had clouded his judgement before, but now it was confined to the past. Randy's mind had waged war when choosing between Samantha and Punk all those months ago, and he hated that Punk got caught in the crossfire. But now more than ever Randy wanted Punk to know that he was who he desired. Punk was who he wanted to be with. Punk was who he loved unconditionally.

Punk's nerves were frayed, he felt the thud of his heart vibrating through his entire body at Randy's revelation as it started to splutter back to life. Punk couldn't help but feel elated knowing Randy wanted him over his own wife. Yet he also felt empathy for Samantha at the same time. He knew how devastating it was to lose Randy Orton from your life.

Punk took a deep breath. He saw Randy waiting. He knew Randy was waiting for his reply. But he just shrugged, at a loss for words. A reluctance still lived in his jaded heart. Randy had crushed his heart with the force of sledge hammer before, it could happen again.

'Is that not what you want?' Randy asked a sadness ran through him at the notion of Punk not wanting him back.

Everything fell away in that moment for Randy. He had ruined the most important thing that had ever took place in his life. Every heartbeat was like an explosion, all the blood rushed to his head and tears welled up in his eyes. If Punk told him that he didn't want him back, he honestly wouldn't know what to do.

Punk held his head in his hands. His own tears threatening to fall. Punk looked to Randy. 'I don't know if we can work. We've tried before and look what happened.'

Punk hated looking back on their relationship with tainted eyes. He loved Randy. He wanted a future with him, but he knew how fragile their relationship could be. Their history spoke volumes.

'I fucked up! I know that, but I'll never mess up again.' Randy pleaded as his whole body silently begged Punk to not give up on him and what they had.

Punk moved over to the balcony doors. He needed guidance. He looked out into the Chicago skyline. The sun shone brightly and he wondered if the sky would give him clarity like it had done in the past when the sky was shaded black in the middle of the night and lit up by the moon and stars.

The love that he felt for Randy remained. It was undisputable. That love was the greatest temptation. But their temperamental history may outweigh and tip the scale against the love he carried in heart and soul for the Viper.

'I just feel like there is so much that can go wrong.' Punk whimpered, his grasp on his emotions starting to whither. 'I wouldn't survive if you broke up with me again.'

'Nothing will go wrong.' Randy pledged. He wouldn't allow it to. 'I would never break up with you. Not again. Going back to Sam was stupid, I know that now. In hindsight its easy to say it was a mistake. But at that time it's like you said what if it could've worked with her. I felt like I needed to try. More than anything I hate the fact that I had to go back to move forward and realise that you're the one for me.'

'I understand that.' Punk truly did. That's why he let Randy free in the first place. Randy needed to see if his marriage was salvageable. 'But there's other obstacles to get past.'

'Like what?' Randy wondered.

'What about if people found about us? You wouldn't freak out about that?' Punk hated throwing the past back in Randy's face, but it was a real dilemma that would eventually arise in their life without question. He couldn't cope giving Randy his heart again just for it to be trampled over.

Randy walked with a purpose up to Punk and held onto his shoulders tightly. He stared into Punk's eyes hoping that Punk could really see the truth and sincerity in them. 'I don't care if people find out. Let them talk. Let them say whatever they want. All I care about is you.'

Punk watched Randy eyes. He looked for any hint of a lie. Any flicker of apprehension at the notion. He felt his heart flutter as he saw none.

But still a slither of doubt remained. He chewed his lip nervously. There was information he needed to share.

'Kofi knows about us.' Punk revealed.

He believed Randy deserved to know, after all it wasn't just Punk's secret. He also treated that information as a test of Randy's true feelings on the subject of going public.

Randy shrugged and smiled. 'I told you I don't care. You can tell anyone. I'll shout it from the rooftops if you want me too. I know I messed things up. And not just at the end, pretty much from the start.'

Randy's smile faded, as he remembered his failures. 'I mean, I made you break a code to your straight edge lifestyle. I punched you. Almost choked you out... And I broke your heart.' Randy's hands ran softly up Punk's neck and cupped his face in his hands. 'I know I don't deserve you, but with everything I have inside of me I know deep down in the bottom of my heart you're my soulmate.'

Punk was robbed of his breath as he leant into the touch that made his skin tingle. He often had found himself lying in bed next to Randy wondering if they were truly destined to be. Could Randy really be his soulmate?

He looked to Randy to see a tear run down his cheek. Pangs of guilt gnawed at him. Randy shouldn't be taking all the blame for the chaos and pain that both men sustained in their relationship.

Meanwhile, Randy's hope was fading. Punk was slipping through his fingers like sand. He would lose him and only have himself to blame.

'It's not you that messed up.' Punk comforted. 'At least not just you.' He removed Randy's hands from his face and took them in his own hands. 'I ultimately made the decision to break the straight edge code. Not you. Me. And I know I said it was a mistake when we broke up, but I didn't mean it. I was just angry and upset. And I wanted to hurt you. I don't regret that. I never could. I never will. You were worth breaking that rule for. I love that memory and I never ever want anyone to take it away from me.'

Randy smiled. A sense of relief took over as Punk lightened the load of his guilt that weighed heavily upon him. He was glad Punk didn't regret breaking the straight edge law, because for Randy those moments they shared were life changing.

'As far as you punching me and choking me out, I think I retaliated pretty well on that score.' Punk smiled with twisted nostalgia as he thought back over their incidents. Their relationship had never been simple.

A doubt that lingered was would it ever be? If a relationship was meant to be should it always be that difficult? Should the road always be that rocky and treacherous?

'You didn't break my heart though. That I have to take responsibility for.' Randy sniffled as another tear ran down his cheek.

Punk couldn't tell him that he was wrong. Randy had stolen his heart all those months ago. He wanted Randy to have it and keep it, but what saddened him now was the lack of belief he now harboured for Randy in that he wouldn't keep it safe and protect it from harm.

'I wish we could just skip over all the bad stuff. I wish you could be kissing me right now. But I honestly don't know that I can forgive and forget.' Punk sniffled.

That was the last thing Randy wanted to hear, that the damage he caused was irreparable. 'I'm sorry.' Randy sobbed.

Punk felt his own tears fall as he saw Randy breakdown in front of him. He inched toward the man, every instinct still told him to comfort him and hold him in his arms.

'You're all I will ever want.' Punk cried. 'But you hurt me...' Punk spluttered as the tears streamed down his face.

'I know and I regret that so much. I'm so sorry, baby.' Randy replied, as he wished with all his might he could make all of Punk's pain vanish.

Punk slammed his eyes shut tight and balled his fists the moment he heard Randy call him baby. Throughout their relationship that endearment always made him feel special, happy, it would always make his smile brighter. His heartbeat strengthened and his pulse raced.

Apart of him wanted to melt into Randy's body and forgive him for everything. He felt weak. Like his legs would give out any second. Randy was mending his heart. However, his resolve remained strong, the walls shaken, but not knocked down. Punk put every effort he could muster to stay rooted to the spot and ignore the devil on his shoulder that suggested and urged him to run back into Randy's arms.

'It can be different this time, I swear to you.' Randy sniffed.

'Why is it going to be any different? We've tried it and too many times we were driven apart. Maybe we both need to come to terms with the fact that we're just not meant to be.' Punk's own words caused a stab of pain to his chest.

'Punk, don't say that, please. We are meant to be. You know we are.' Randy begged, the gravitation of how much he had hurt Punk dawned on him more and more, and he knew that he couldn't let that happen again. He needed to prove to Punk that he meant every word he had said that day and that Punk could have faith in him.

Punk sobbed as he wiped away the fresh tears that fell. 'I don't know anything anymore.'

A lie to protect his own heart. If there was one thing he was sure of it was his undying love for Randy.

'I do. I know how I feel and I know what I want.' Randy stepped closer to Punk and held onto his shoulders tightly again. 'Look in my eyes, you're all that I want. You're all that I will ever want.'

He willed Punk to believe him. To trust him. To have faith in him.

'How long for this time? I can't go through the same heartache all over again. I'm scared history will just repeat itself.' Punk sniffled as the tears ran down his cheeks.

Randy instinctively wiped them away with a caring thumb. 'I don't blame you for doubting me...'

'It's not just you that I doubt. It's me too. It's us.'

'I swear to you with everything I have that I won't let you down ever again.' Randy sobbed. 'Please, baby just give me one last chance.'

Punk felt his knees weaken further and his whole body shake as he watched the man he loved cry so hard that he could barely catch a breath. His own body heaved with sobs and splutters as he tortured himself over which decision to make.

Then precious words were said. Three special words were uttered.

'Punk, I love you.'

Randy's declaration robbed Punk of his breath as he reeled from the words. Every doubt slipped away as he heard the echo of Randy's sentiment over and over again in his head.

Randy loved him.

He wanted to hear that for so long. He thought it was something he would never attain when he got up that morning. He had braced himself for a fresh day of living hell, but now he heard those three words and it was the most amazing moment of his entire life. Punk's heart swelled and he felt like he was living again. His own heart mended fully and it beat loud and strong.

Randy Orton loved him.

Punk finally took a breath, his lungs gasping for the oxygen. Then he saw how utterly dejected Randy looked. Punk realised he had been silent for far too long after such a huge, important and emotion bearing revelation.

Randy's eyes stung from the unrelenting stream of tears, his face damp as they continued to pour. Telling Punk that he loved him was a mistake. A disturbing pattern seemed to be emerging when it came down to his choices in life.

Randy gulped trying to find his voice. 'I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that. I'd take it back if I could...'

Punk felt his newly restored heart submerge back into murky water. Was Randy about to shatter his heart all over again so soon? 'Do you really want to take it back?'

Randy stared intently into Punk's eyes. Through the tears he shook his head. 'I wish I didn't blurt it out like that. But it's the truth. I'm in love with you, Punk.'

If you stripped away all the pain and sorrow at the very centre of Punk's heart was his love for Randy, and it burnt brighter than it had ever done before. The walls that surrounded his heart were no match for the bulldozing words from the man he loved.

Punk's heart pounded with a new lease of life, his whole body trembling as his tears fell. Without hesitation, with no doubts clogging his mind anymore he ran back into Randy's arms. As soon as he felt Randy's arms close tightly around his frame he felt like he was back where he belonged. He curled his own arms around the taller mans neck as he gazed lovingly into Randy's eyes.

Randy's sad blue eyes evolved into orbs glistening with hope as Punk's warm body rested tightly against his. He could hear and feel his heart thudding around every inch of his body. This was so damn right. This was were he was meant to be. This is where his heart truly belonged.

Punk's whole body tingled with familiar sensations as he was overwhelmed with the onslaught of Randy being back with him. And for the first time in months Punk leant forward and kissed the man that loved him.

Fuck, had he missed those lips. Damn, did he miss those kisses. Mind numbing. Breath stealing. Heart and soul consuming.

As Punk and Randy parted, The Second City Saint couldn't find the strength to open his eyes, scared that this was a dream and at any moment he would wake up alone in his bed.

It wouldn't have been the first time.

Punk felt a gentle touch brush over his back, travelling up and down his spine that caused goose bumps to rise over the surface of his skin. Then the deep voice he loved pleaded with him.

'Baby, open your eyes.'

His eyes crept open and he saw the brightest blue eyes shining back at him. It was no dream. Randy wasn't a mirage. Or a figment of his imagination. Randy was here. He was really here.

'I love you.' Randy declared again with a beaming smile. He wanted to chant it over and over again just so Punk knew.

Fuck, Punk had missed that smile. Those eyes. That touch. That _everything._

Punk was trembling, his heart thumping so viciously it made him shake uncontrollably. There were three words daring to escape from within. It was the perfect time. No turning back now. He bared his soul.

His voice could only manage to whisper.

'I love you too.'

...

Once back in bed together there was a surge of emotion. Something was different. Not in a bad way or an unwelcome way. There was just a noticeable change. And to Punk and Randy it felt as if they were free falling from the top of a skyscraper knowing that they had each other safely by their side and nothing would ever change that.

It didn't take long for them to regain their synergy. A flush spread over Punk's skin, his whole body tingling with anticipation as Randy's strong frame pressed tightly against his back with his hips flush against Punk's ass as both men basked in the feeling of Randy being buried in Punk to the hilt.

Feeling Randy's thick, long, pulsating shaft back inside of him brought Punk to a euphoria that eclipsed every other he had reached. Nothing compared to it. Waves of contentment and fulfilment ran over Punk emanating with a warm glow from his heart.

Randy and he were meant to be. Punk knew that, and nothing would stand in their way ever again.

Randy peered down the miniscule gap between Punk's and his own body. Seeing Punk's hole accommodate him was the most erotic sight he could ever envision. Every fibre of his being told him that being with Punk was where he belonged. He heeded their call, and that would be where he would stay forever.

Punk felt Randy retreat and then gently push back in and already the Second City Saint could feel his budding orgasm building. It had been too long since he had last felt the rush of adrenaline, excitement and arousal. His dick was already painfully hard. It seemed all the blood supply in his body had been rerouted to his leaking cock as it twitched and throbbed as Randy sent his glorious member deep inside.

Punk's eyes flickered shut and his head fell against the pillow, unable to sustain the strength to keep it up. He was led on his side with Randy's body spooned closely behind him. The warmth of Randy's skin radiated through him, and the scent of Randy's deodorant, body wash, and the musky smell of his arousal was a full scale assault on Punk's senses that caused a lust filled moan of his lovers name to escape as his eyes dilated in love and passion.

Randy kissed along Punk's shoulder, up to his neck and bearded jaw. He licked and nibbled at his lovers ear before a husky whisper sent a shiver down Punk's spine, that coupled with the swell in his heart at the loving sentiment.

'I missed this so much. You're perfect. You're so damn sexy.'

Punk could only whimper. 'Me too.' He managed to whisper as he agreed that he had missed the intimacy that Randy and he shared.

Punk needed Randy closer. He wanted every part of Randy to take hold of him and never let him go. He craned his neck and kissed Randy. His eyes were wide with insatiable lust, adoration and love. He raised his left arm and reached behind himself over his shoulder, his arm curling around the back of Randy's neck and he pulled his man closer to engage in a mind numbing and breath stealing kiss. His tongue surged wantonly into Randy's mouth to venture and taste everything there was to taste of his boyfriend.

Randy pulled away, the need for oxygen overcoming him. He looked down into Punk's passion dazed orbs, a look he suspected was mirrored in his own gaze, and he concluded Punk looked absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

And Punk was all his.

'Don't go.' Punk whispered needily, missing Randy's lips against his own.

'I'm not going anywhere ever again. I promise.' Randy attested as he placed a sweet and tender kiss on Punk's swollen glistening lips.

A strong and firm hand glided down Punk's muscular left thigh and Randy marvelled as the taut muscle and skin rippled under his palm. He had always admired Punk's strong thighs. A true master piece. It made his dick swell and harden within Punk's snug, white hot channel.

Randy worked his forearm between Punk's impressive thighs and he raised Punk's leg high into the air. Randy cupped the back of Punk's knee to aid his lover in the position as he guided his throbbing dick back inside Punk's tight ass.

Both men were rewarded in the new position as the new angle caused a shock wave of pleasure to bolt through Punk as Randy hit his sweet spot and his hole tensed around Randy's length. Punk groaned his appreciation as Randy's name echoed around the room in Punk's husky voice. Randy nailed Punk's prostate with precision and Punk couldn't remain silent as his orgasm built and built.

Punk raked furrows with his finger nails down the nape of Randy's neck, as his other hand clenched into a fist. His head lolled and bobbed around weakly before stilling and pressing tightly against Randy's sweaty chest. Punk could feel the strong heartbeat vibrating against his face and his own heart clenched as it dawned on him that the heart he was listening to belonged to him and loved him.

Maybe love wasn't such a bitch after all. Love could also be absolutely incredible!

Punk's head fell from Randy's chest as his fist pounded against the mattress as Randy's thrusts increased in their frequency and force. Salacious and delectable moans tumbled from Punk's mouth as he begged for Randy to never stop.

Fuck, Randy had missed hearing those erotic sounds from Punk. It was one of the things he treasured most about having sex with CM Punk. Those deep, dirty, passionate whimpers were all caused by him. They were all for him. For his ears only. His heart ballooned in his chest as the love he felt for Punk continued to blossom.

Punk's dick leaked large amounts of pre-cum onto his stomach, and as Randy nudged his prostate with expertise again his dick twitched violently and slapped off his belly and his ass clenched tightly around Randy's large invading shaft.

Randy's eyes slid closed as he bit his lip and a hoarse guttural moan came from deep within. Punk's warm velvet walls gripped his dick with the most intense and delicious friction.

Randy could never find the words to explain just how amazing it felt to be inside of Punk, but he tried nonetheless. 'You feel so good, baby.' He affirmed as he kissed every inch of Punk's face he could easily reach. 'You're so fucking perfect.'

Randy's arm that was still cradling Punk's raised leg reached out and took hold of Punk's dripping cock that was begging for attention and instantly jerked him off with a tight fist and frenetic pace.

'Ah, Randy. I'm so close. Fuck, this feels incredible. Always feels incredible.' Punk moaned as he barely remained coherent as the ecstasy he was revelling in inched him nearer and nearer to a mind numbing, brain freezing, body melting orgasm.

Randy's hot breath ghosted over Punk's ear as he confirmed he was close to his climax as well. Punk couldn't wait to feel the explosion again. For too long he had been without the experience. He longed to feel that intense pleasure of Randy's warm thick cum shooting deep inside of him right as he rode the crest of his own wave. Just the thought caused Punk's dick to throb in Orton's palm and pre-cum to dribble down his length and aid Randy's stroking.

Punk was chasing both their orgasms and he started to meet Randy's hard thrusts. A concoction of sounds were created between the mixture of Punk's and Randy's moans and groans, the slick sound of aroused flesh meeting aroused flesh, and the sucking sound of Punk's ass eagerly accepting Randy's lubricated dick pounding inside. A perfect soundtrack to their impassioned intimacy.

Punk could feel the heat in his cock and balls bubble and boil, and he lifted his already raised leg higher showing his extreme and impressive flexibility as his leg reached out straight upward, his toes pointing toward the ceiling. He could feel Randy's glorious dick delving deeper inside of him than it had ever reached before and as his boyfriend hammered into his spot it sent him spinning out of control, his vision exploded with colour, his body turned rigid.

'Oh fuck, Randy. I'm gonna cum.' Punk cried with pure unmatched pleasure and with a lust induced timbre in his tone.

As Punk's walls tightened around his shaft Randy felt his balls tighten and his own climax start to ignite. 'Me too, baby.'

Punk clawed at Randy pulling him even tighter against his body, and pushed back with more force, driving Randy even harder into his ass. He craned his neck and kissed Randy with all the love in his heart.

'Say it again.' Punk whispered against Randy's equally glistening and swollen lips.

Randy opened his eyes to see the green in Punk's eyes sparkling as bright as the leaves on the trees. Completely enchanting. He knew what Punk wanted and with no hesitation he professed his eternal love for the man in his arms.

'Please, Randy.' Punk begged with a delectable moan.

'I love you.' Randy smiled before his face morphed into pleasure as Punk's ass contracted tightly around his pulsating dick.

'I love you too.' Punk affirmed as he dived back in to steal his own and his boyfriends breath away.

Randy sent his cock back in with another precise thrust to Punk's prostate that tipped Punk over the point of no return. His cum barreled up his shaft and his moans got lost in Randy's mouth as their tongues tangled together. The whole world faded away from Punk in that moment, and all that existed was his bed and Randy and himself.

Punk's cum exploded from his dick in the most earth shattering orgasm he had ever experienced in his life. Thick spurts of cum shot into pools on his belly and the bed sheets and flooded from the tip over Randy's hand as he turned into a boneless mess in Randy's arms.

Punk's convulsing and strangling hole tore the orgasm from Randy mere seconds later. He pushed through the resistance of Punk's clenched passage and sent his member deep into his lover. Punk's arm fell from around Randy's neck and instead squeezed Randy's left butt cheek and pushed Randy even deeper inside encouraging him and Randy stilled whilst buried fully inside as he unloaded his thick warm seed deep inside his boyfriend.

Randy practically growled into Punk's mouth as Punk's firm hand kept him deep inside as both men revelled in their shared show stopping crescendo. The frantic and intense kiss that started on the brink of their climax descended into lazy sloppy kisses as they returned from their celestial bliss. Randy licked at Punk's shining lip ring and tugged on it playfully as Punk tenderly ran his fingers up and down Randy's ass and thigh.

Punk slowly opened his eyes and he could see his reflection mirrored in Randy's sparkling blue orbs as the Viper watched him. Randy's eyes often looked stormy grey, but when he was filled with happiness, excitement and passion they turned into an electric blue. That was something Punk had learnt and realised he loved to see over the last 9 months.

'I missed that.' Randy grinned as he set about moving to pull out of Punk.

Punk stilled Randy's movement as he returned his raised limb to the mattress. He didn't want Randy to pull out yet. He was happy and content to just bask in the afterglow of the most amazing sex he had ever experienced.

'I missed it too.' Punk agreed. 'Did it feel...kinda...' Punk stumbled for the right words.

'Different?' Randy asked as he remained inside his lover like Punk wanted.

'Yeah.' Punk confirmed. He hoped Randy felt the difference. Because although every previous sexual encounter with Randy had been spectacular, this time it was life changing.

'Yeah, it felt different. It always feels amazing with you, but this time there was something else that made even more...' Randy couldn't find the right adjective to show just how mind blowing the sex Punk and he had just engaged in truly was.

'Fucking fantastic?' Punk quipped as he looked lovingly into Randy's gaze.

Randy nodded as he kissed his man with all the love and affection in his heart.

Punk and Randy knew that what they had just shared together wasn't fucking. It wasn't just sex. It was making love.

Randy ended the kiss and let Punk's now flaccid member out of his hand. His own soft dick slipped out of Punk's ass along with drips and dribbles of his essence which fell onto the crisp white sheets that Punk had only changed that morning. Punk's own cum joined the mess as Randy wiped his coated hand on the bedspread too. The sheets were drenched and the heavy smell of sex was lingering in the air. It didn't bother Punk or Randy in the slightest it just made their smiles beam even brighter than the stars that lit up the night sky.

They were in their own perfect paradise.

Punk turned onto his back and looked up into his soulmates gaze. Randy was still on his side, his pondering look made Punk worry that he felt regret.

'Are you okay?' Punk asked. 'Do you regret...'

Randy put a finger to Punk's lips to silence him. He smiled tenderly and shook his head. 'I could never regret that. I'm just thinking about how lucky I am that you took me back. I know I fucked up royally, but I won't let you down ever again. I can't bear being without you. I miss you too much.'

Punk sighed with relief, whilst at the same time Randy's honest and loving sentiment stole his breath away. 'I can't live without you.' Punk replied as he took hold of Randy's hand within his own.

Randy smiled at his boyfriends touch and words. He knew how close he came to losing it forever. And now more than ever he felt he needed to show just how much of his heart was owned by CM Punk.

Randy looked Punk up and down taking in every inch of the body laid bare beside him. Such beauty. 'You're so beautiful. Do you know that?'

Punk actually blushed at Randy's loving words and behaviour. He grabbed the pillow from underneath his head and hid behind it to hide his reddening cheeks.

Randy grabbed the pillow and cast it aside. He rolled closer to Punk, the left side of his body resting right on top of Punk's. An arm and a leg resting over Punk. Delicate soft caresses roamed over Punk's chest as Randy looked over the masterpiece of beauty in front of him.

His fortunate eyes came to rest on Punk's. The eyes he adored. 'I missed gazing into these gorgeous eyes.' A palm ran down Punk's tattooed arm before fingers interlocked with his own. 'I missed holding these hands in my own.' The palm ran back up over Punk's biceps, squeezing the hard muscles under the skin of his arms, shoulders and chest. 'I missed feeling all these muscles.' Randy's eyes that were locked onto Punk's fell south and rested on Punk's glistening and swollen red lips. 'I missed kissing those lips with that tempting lip ring that I always want to bite.' He kissed Punk, his tongue running along the seam of Punk's lips, but not entering despite Punk allowing him and licking at his own. Instead Randy's tongue flicked the metal of Punk's piercing before biting it and tugging gently on the lip ring.

Both of Randy's palms travelled down Punk's chest and rested on his belly. 'I missed this stomach, that I love to trace your straight edge tattoo on.' One hand left Punk's belly and rippled up his thigh. 'I missed these sexy thighs that I love being wrapped around me.' Randy smirked at the shiver that ran through Punk as he took in every word that Randy bestowed upon him.

The hand on Punk's thigh drifted further and a single digit ran over Punk's quivering and stretched hole. 'I missed being inside of you. Feeling your whole body shudder beneath me.' Randy saw Punk chewing his lip and he smirked again as he felt Punk's reawakened dick poking his washboard abdomen. He ran his index finger up Punk's half hard member. 'I missed feeling your dick inside of me. Making me feel so full and aroused and loved.'

Punk breathed rapidly his heart ready to burst out of his chest at all the love that Randy was showering upon him. Randy looked at him and with a loving smile he leant down and licked the cum off Punk's belly relishing the taste finally being back on his tongue. 'I missed tasting you. Because you're the tastiest thing in the world.'

Randy grinned and caressed Punk's cheek with his thumb. 'So, to sum up I missed every single thing that makes you, you. I missed watching you read your comic books. I missed hearing you laugh at Cabana's latest podcast. I missed being curled up on the couch with you while you watch the Cubs play. I even missed watching you sing and dance whilst listening to music when you think I'm not around. But most of all I miss watching you sleep peacefully in my arms during the night. You're my idea of absolute perfection, Punk. And I love you.'

Punk was officially swept off his feet. He was head over heels in love. And an absolute speechless mess. He could actually feel a tear fall, but this time it was from the other end of the spectrum; pure joy. He reached out for Randy pulling him on top of himself and kissed him. 'I love you too, so much.'

Randy rested his forehead against Punk's and nuzzled his nose against Punk's. His hand paused on the Second City Saints chest. The heart beneath the tattooed chest loved him and was his to cherish and protect. He would never let any harm come to it ever again.

He looked down at his palm on Punk's chest. He saw Punk's eyes follow. 'I promise I'll look after it this time.'

Punk raised Randy's chin with a finger and kissed him again. 'I know you will. You don't have to worry, I believe you. And I'll look after yours too.' Punk grinned as he felt Randy rest his head on his chest and embrace him in his strong arms.

Every part of Punk's heart belonged to Randy. Just as every part of Randy's belonged to Punk. Mind. Body. Soul. True love down to its very core.

Punk stared up at the ceiling. His head and heart conversed and in a rare feat actually agreed. He held Randy tightly in his arms as he took a deep breath ready to ask Randy an important question.

'Randy?' Punk whispered.

'Mmm?' Randy replied as he lifted his head and looked back up at his boyfriend.

'Do you want to move in with me?' As soon as he asked Punk's whole body rattled and jangled with nerves.

Randy leant on his elbow his eyes studying Punk's features for any hint of sarcasm or a joke. He saw none. In fact what he saw was stress and anxiety marring his lovers beautiful face.

With no hesitation he answered. 'Yes.'

Punk beamed and Randy dived in for another loving kiss that quickly escalated and evolved into more amorous and adventurous activities.

A future had been shaped. A future full of hope and love. Commitment had never been an easy step to take for either Randy or Punk, but there was no apprehension in either of their minds now.

Just an optimistic view on the future they would share together.

...

_2 weeks later..._

Punk looked around his apartment. Or at least what was once his apartment. It now looked like a storage depot with boxes strewn everywhere. They were practically piled up to the ceiling. There was barely an empty space to walk.

'This is the last of it.' Randy told him as he entered the apartment with another box in his arms and another stacked on top of it.

'You've got a lot of shit.' Punk said as he surveyed his cluttered living room.

Randy placed the boxes down and then moved his hands to his hips. 'Are you regretting asking me to move in already?'

Punk weighed up the question in his head. He pretended to think for a moment then shook his head emphatically. 'Absolutely not.' He smirked. 'I just never thought you would have so much stuff.'

Punk had no doubt in his mind that he wanted to live with Randy. He had no reservations about the step they made. None at all. Ever since he had bought the apartment it had been just that; an apartment. But now it was more.

Now it was a home. Randy and his home. Their home.

'Just so you know I'm not helping you unpack.' Punk smirked over at his boyfriend as he informed Randy of his unhelpful intentions.

'You suck!' Randy complained as he bent over to inspect what was in the boxes that he had just carried in. He had brief look around and silently conceded that he did indeed have a lot of stuff. He'd just never admit that Punk was correct. He was too much of a smart ass as it was.

Punk walked up behind him pressing flush against his body. As Randy stood up straight and leaned into Punk's enticing body, two tattooed arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

'I do suck. I suck good remember?' Punk joked crudely as he rested his head in the crook of Randy's neck.

Randy wrinkled his face before smiling. 'That was terribly cheesy.'

'I'm never cheesy!' Punk protested.

Randy placed his arms over Punk's and held the mans hands in his own as he stroked the soft warm skin gently. 'Of course your not.' His tone full of sarcasm.

Prolonged exposure to The Voice of the Voiceless had sharpened his own sarcastic wit and retorts.

'Fine! No more blow jobs for you!' Punk warned with a fake sulk.

'No! I know you suck good. I just think you may need to refresh my memory?' Randy smirked suggestively as he pulled Punk back tightly against his back seeing as Punk had tried to break free to pretend to storm off.

Punk's arms circled around the Vipers waist again and he chuckled into the nape of Orton's neck before kissing the pulse point. With a sultry whisper he promised, 'Later.'

Randy turned around in Punk's arms to face him and kissed him on the forehead. They gazed at one another, momentarily lost in the others devoted orbs.

'Are you really not going to help me unpack?' Randy questioned.

'Nope.' Punk replied instantly.

'That's not very welcoming. And not very nice considering I'm your boyfriend.' Randy claimed as he made a sad face to try and break Punk down.

Punk couldn't ward off the smile due to Randy's face and rolled his eyes. 'Don't guilt trip me, Orton. It won't work.'

Randy continued to make a sad face hoping to break Punk down little by little.

'Ah, fine I'll help. Just to stop you making that ridiculous face.' Punk let go of Randy and moved over toward one of the many boxes.

He didn't think that face was all that ridiculous in all honesty. In fact he found it to be ridiculously cute, but he would never tell Randy that seeing as every time Randy busted it out Punk always seemed to cave in to whatever Randy wanted at that particular moment in time.

He couldn't have his boyfriend learning that fact. It could be a dangerous weapon. Then Randy would always get his own way and Punk never would. Punk smiled with infatuation. He really was head over heels in love with Randy Orton.

'Hey, I've finally clicked as to why there are so many boxes.' Punk smiled gleefully at Randy.

'And what might that be?' Randy asked, wondering what the hell Punk was going to say. From the mischievous glint in his boyfriends eye something sarcastic no doubt.

'Well, Randal Orton could never go anywhere without a lifetime supply of baby oil.' Punk laughed as he smirked over at his boyfriend.

Randy gave him a mock glare before picking up a shirt from an open box and throwing it directly in Punk's face. Punk caught the clothing before it hit the floor and smiled seeing it was the same shirt that Randy had accidentally left in his apartment all those months ago. The same shirt that two weeks ago caused his heart so much pain.

A lot can change in a matter of weeks. Now he was on top of the world.

'I hate you.' Randy replied with jest.

'No you don't.' Punk wandered back over to Randy and pulled him back into his arms. Ever since they reunited Punk had barely been able to tear himself away from touching Randy. Not that Randy minded. In fact he had barely kept his hands and lips off Punk too. 'You love me. You said it and you can't take it back.' Punk grinned.

Randy shook his head and laughed. He really did love Punk with all his heart. Randy tugged Punk closer by his Ramones tee-shirt and enveloped him in a hug whilst kissing him lovingly on the lips.

'I will never ever take that back. I love you.' Randy expressed as he reaffirmed his emotions for the Straight Edge Superstar.

Punk would never get tired of hearing those glorious three words.

'I love you too.' Punk professed.

Randy would never get tired of hearing them either.

Who would've thought three tiny little words could ever mean so much?

Punk kissed Randy again, and the contact hurriedly became more heated as they fell onto the nearby couch with their tongues battling for dominance. Punk's hands roamed greedily over every contour of Randy's body that rested on top of him, eventually travelling south and pulling Randy's basketball shorts off his hips.

'I thought we were saving this for later.' Randy moaned into his boyfriends mouth.

'We can do it later too if you like?' Punk smirked up insatiably at the burning desire, passion and love that sparked between the two of them.

Since their attraction began they had boarded a voyage of self discovery. And despite each man questioning if they were in full possession of their mental faculties along the way, it seemed that what they had discovered was well worth the ups and downs, the arguments, the fights, and even the heartbreak.

Because now what they had together was irrefutably true love.

Their entire journey and relationship for the most part could be put down to one word.

_Volatile._

And it may have been volatile in its creation. But now something entirely different had been uncovered.

_Love and their one and only soulmate._

That was their ultimate destination all along.

...

**The End.**

* * *

**Well, that's it. Volatile is finished! I know it was without warning, but I felt it was the right time for it to finish. It was the way I always intended it to end with them being together and them saying they love one another and making a commitment with Randy moving in. I entertained the idea of adding more after this chapter for a split second, but decided against it as I didn't want to have them take a step back again or have any drama that would make what was said and accomplished in this chapter worthless. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Well, actually I hoped you enjoyed the whole story as much as I did writing it. It was a crazy journey! And I want to thank EVERYONE that read, followed, favourited and especially reviewed. The amount of reviews were beyond what I ever expected. Your feedback and compliments on the story and my writing was so appreciated and I hope you will like the other stories I write too.**

**I have already got more Punkton stories planned. One is a lot darker with Randy slightly evil and he has his eyes set on Punk to bring him down. I've also got multiple A/U's planned as well. I know A/U's aren't everyone's favourite thing to read, but hopefully you'll like it. One of them is completely planned out, so I'd imagine that A/U or the evil Randy story will emerge first.**

**Anyways, that's enough talking from me...once again THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! :)**


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